#i'm soft & my heart is weak and full
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thevoiceofthepeople · 10 months ago
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I've been mainlining Josei and Shojo mangas in between work and if someone wants to do a blind date RP for valentines I literally can't say now. It's the law. I'm so soft rn!
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mrsbarnesblog · 5 months ago
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my girl
masterlist
requests are open
summary: even if you knew that you and Rafe were just hooking up, hearing his friend's comments about you, while you were preparing a venue for the event, hurt more than you expected it to
word count: 2k.
warnings: fwb (or smth like that) to lovers, mentions of sex but nothing explicit, Rafe's friends lol, swearing
a/n: soft Rafe is my weakness, I'm sorry. he's on my mind 24/7 and I literally don't know what to write
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You were running around the outdoor venue with boxes full of pastry, where in a few hours there was going to be an annual celebration with lots of rich people. For some reason, Ward Cameron, who was paying for everything here, decided that your father’s small bakery was good enough to feed all of the kooks, so from the afternoon on, you were organizing tables to make everything look perfect. 
The place itself looked truly magical—decorated with a lot of flower arrangements, lights and expensive furniture. It was located at Figure 8, so you obviously never had the opportunity to visit it before. It was Kook’s territory, and even with your family’s bakery, which was pretty popular on the island, you were not welcome here.
Just a few minutes ago, Ward himself came to the venue with Rafe and his son’s best friends in order to check how everything was going. 
As soon as your eyes met Rafe’s, you both stopped for a few seconds, too shocked to see each other in a public place. What happened between you and Kook's prince was something that you had never expected to get into, yet here you were. 
You didn’t know what got into you that one night, but out of nowhere, Rafe was talking to you, smiling, looking all sexy and without his usual cockiness, so you couldn’t resist him. 
It wasn’t that you even regretted your decision; it just became more weird every single time you met because he wasn’t bad. Rafe Cameron wasn’t an asshole, which everyone made him seem to be. He was affectionate and surprisingly soft, always checking on you while you two were together and never pressuring you to leave. You wholeheartedly had to admit that it became more than just sex after a few weeks, no matter how hard you tried to deny it. 
You were definitely not dating, mostly because he had never asked you to, but you two were always texting about random stuff, he would even pick you up to hang out at his secret spot on the beach, or just to simply sit in his truck with lots of food and talk. Part of you hated it, but Rafe made you feel so comfortable and safe around him so you were scared to push it and ask him what was happening between you. 
Rafe’s eyes stayed fixated on you as his father, Kelce and Topper stood near him, looking around the venue and chatting. But he could not care less about it because his entire attention was drawn to you and how adorable you looked in your pink tennis skirt and simple white polo with the bakery's logo on it. 
He may or may not be responsible for Ward’s choice of bakery to work with, because Rafe made sure to accidentally mention it a few times, knowing that it would be a good profit for your family. Yet, seeing you here slightly took him off guard, as the first thought that appeared in his head was to go up to you, flirt and make you blush, or just simply kiss you. But he couldn’t, right? At least not until he properly talked to you. 
“Damn, she’s hot, even for a pogue. No wonder you hit it a few times, bro. I'd do it too.” The moment words left Topper’s mouth, Rafe’s heart dropped into his stomach. Kelce snickered, fistbumping Topper, and Rafe cursed himself for running his mouth. He really considered drowning his friends in the nearest lake. 
“Shut your fucking mouth.” Rafe seethed through gritted teeth, elbowing his friend. 
“I would appreciate you both watching your language.” Ward sighed, wincing and rubbing a hand on his beard. He looked at Rafe, who completely ignored his questioning gaze while trying to figure out how to fix it. 
Even with you standing with your back facing them, Rafe saw that you heard it too. Your hand froze in the air, still holding a cupcake, and your shoulders sagged in disappointment and hurt.
Only a few seconds later, you came back to your senses. Your back straightened, you finished decorating the table and you put empty boxes in the trash can. You turned around, showing the fakest smile Rafe had ever seen on your face. Your nails digged in your palm to control yourself, and you stepped closer to the four of them. 
“Mr. Cameron, thank you for working with our bakery. It really means a lot for my family. I did everything and now the event manager should carry on. I, um, should go. I have a lot of stuff to do. Have a great night.” Your eyes were glossy, with tears clearly visible on your waterline. As you awkwardly and in a rush thanked Ward, you didn’t even look at Rafe or either of his friends, knowing damn well that it would break you. 
You didn’t even wait for Ward’s response before storming off, trying to get as far away from these people as possible. Your chest felt too heavy, and the lump in your throat was so hard that you could barely speak. But you didn’t even walk a few feet away before a familiar hand wrapped around your wrist and made you turn around. 
“What do you want from me?” You snapped at Rafe, trying to yank your hand out of his grip. “Don’t touch me, Rafe.”
“This is not what you think it is.” He said, searching for your eyes. His brows were knit together, and his eyes were big and round, almost in fear. 
“Oh no? Isn’t it what I am to you? Just a hit. Just another one on your long list. Why are you bothering to explain anything to me anyway?” You laughed, barely able to hold back your tears. As if it were not enough that you cried in front of Rafe, neither his friends nor his father seemed to mind their own business, obviously listening to your conversation. 
“No. You know that it was more for me, Y/N. I’m serious about you, okay? Topper just cannot filter his fucking mouth.” 
“Stop doing it, Rafe!” You broke, not bothering to hide anymore. “Stop playing with my feelings when you know damn well that you won’t have anything serious with me. I’m not rich, I’m not a kook and I’m not like the prefect girls you usually hang out with. I get it, okay?” You yanked your hand out of his hold, not missing the way Rafe tried to catch it back. Wiping away hot and angry tears with the back of your hand, you look him right in the eyes. “I just wish you didn't give me hope in the first place, because I feel so fucking stupid.” 
“You’re not stupid, Y/N. I don’t care about your money or your status, for that matter. I want you and I mean it. Just let me explain—”
"This is why you would not even speak to me in front of anyone, right? This is why we were always sneaking around. Because you want me, not because you’re too good to be around me.“ You confronted him, not even caring who could hear or see you. From the position where you were standing, you saw a bunch of young waitresses standing not so far away, pretending to work on the table but eyeing you and Rafe every second.
“I’m an asshole. I know it. I know that I didn’t put the label on us and that I fucked up, not doing the right thing.” He stepped closer to you, not breaking eye contact to show that he was sincere. "When Topper and Kelce saw me with you, I panicked and said the only thing that made sense: we were just hooking up. I didn’t want it to be that way, fuck…” Rafe screched the back of his neck in agitation.
“You should go back and stop embarrassing yourself talking with a pogue. I bet your friends found it entertaining. How much did you tell them, hm? Did you share every single detail of what we were doing?” Your voice broke at the end.
“I didn’t tell them anything!”
“Well, I don’t believe you, Rafe!” You sniffed, looking away to distract yourself from the look in Rafe’s eyes. His blue eyes were round, full of concern and it seemed like he was almost panicking. "I understand how guys like you talk about women, but I guess I was stupid enough to believe you would not do that to me. So yeah, you got what you wanted from me and now you can go back to—”
You were rumbling one moment, and the next, two hands pressed on your cheeks, tilting your head up, and Rafe's lips were on yours. You gasped, hands freezing in the air in shock, before slowly moving to Rafe’s shirt to tug on it. 
He didn’t rush; he just firmly yet gently held you against him while his tongue slipped into your mouth, savoiring every second. It’s been just two days since you last seen each other, but God, you missed kissing him. Even if you wanted to move away, you couldn’t. Rafe's palms were on your face, guiding you, while his kiss made your head feel empty and light. He smelled and tasted so good and you hated how quickly you got used to the feeling of his touch on your skin. 
“Everyone can see us.” You mumbled into his mouth. 
“I don’t fucking care, Y/N.” He furrowed, still feeling the wetness on your cheeks from crying. With his thumbs gently rubbing your soft skin, he gave you a few quick kisses before continuing. "I swear, all I said to them was that we just hooked up, because it is what it was at that moment. I wouldn’t have shared anything intimate about you, baby. Please believe me when I say this.” Rafe sighed, resting his forehead on yours. His nose bumped against your—something that he started doing when you were alone in the bed, laying face to face and just looking at each other. "I am sorry I made you feel like you were just sex for me, because you weren't. Spending time with you was the best fucking time of my day, and whatever that was between us, I don’t want it to end.”
“Me neither…” You whispered, feeling warmth rushing through your body when Rafe wrapped his hands around your waist and pulled you even closer into him. He placed a kiss on the top of your head and then you felt him turning around, seemingly studying people around you.
“Since everyone saw us today, do you think I can take you away with me right now?” 
“Take me away? But you have an event in a few hours, and I have to work.”
“No, now we have an event and we have to find you a dress. I’ll handle your work and find someone who can deliver your orders.” Your head snapped up, only to see a proud grin on Rafe's face.
“You’re joking, right?” You pulled away, laughing. “I don’t have such clothes nor do I have money to buy them, and I definitely wasn’t invited.” 
“That’s why I’m taking you to the store now. And since you are my girl now, you’ll be my plus one.” He just shrugged, probably unaware that he had just filled your stomach with freaking butterflies. 
“I’m your girl?” 
Rafe silently looked you in the eyes for a few seconds, and it seemed like he was trying to reassure himself about something. His eyes then shifted to your lips, as he dragged you back to his body, lowering himself to mumble against your mouth. “Yeah, you are my girl.”
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shxuga · 3 months ago
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Not said | Sylus
I'm in love with this man, and I wanted to introduce myself by writing something about him in the best way… fluffy and self-indulgent! I hope you enjoy the read, English is not my first language ;; Likes and respoted are aprecciates!
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It was crazy...
Yes, crazy. Because... How did you go from repudiating and fearing the infamous leader of Onychinus... to... to this?
His soft hair shook as he rocked his face to the left, settling his sleeping form better into your bed. And, clearly, as the mature woman you are and not at all affected by his celestial beauty, you did not annihilate the voracious impulse to shake your legs and slide your fingers through his pretty grayish strands.
You sighed, feeling out of place in your own home. In your own bed! With the curtains closed, somehow trying to wipe most of brightness of Linkon's sun, that your... Ally? Buddy? Lover...?
Gosh, you weren't even sure about that...
Yes, definitely, crazy.
You couldn't even try to figure out Sylus. No matter how hard you tried to collect each piece of his complex puzzle... Most of the time you felt at a dead end.
You blame his pretty voice, his sharp but gentle features, the damn way he pronounced your name, and how he acted when it came to you. God, his damn treatment of you...! That started being so cold, almost spiteful, as if with his words and behavior he will "subtly" (because the bastard wasn't subtle at all!) demand that you remember something he didn't even bother to explain.
The memories in your mind were confusing, blurry and melancholic.
It was strange...
You did not remember exactly that mysterious past, and your "first" meeting was undoubtedly bitter... And now, much to your regret, is the moment where you most feel that your relationship with him wanders on a different astral plane! Completely unrelated!
Because... What the hell were you two?!
There was something implicit there, something mutual that, for better or worse, neither of you had dared to utter. Plus, he completely contradicted himself at times like these. Where the words become extinct, the walls collapse and only that soft perfume of vulnerability remains that surrounds both.
When the cold, calculating and demanding leader became a mirage, leaving only a man... just Sylus.
When he laughed at your antics, and his pretty eyes crinkled in tenderness. Or when he poured honey from his lips, calling you affectionate nicknames that made the butterflies in your stomach flutter. The stolen pettings, where his fingers lingered longer than they should along your hair, those times when his knuckles subtly traced your shoulders and the sides of your arms, or those moments where he let his fingers protectively around your waist.
Moments like these... Where without warning he arrived at your apartment, and took over your bed. If you had a nickel for every time his actions nearly gave you a heart attack, chances are your wealth would begin to rival his.
"Can't you sleep?" His hoarse, sleepy voice startles you, tearing you out of the limbo of your thoughts.
"How could I? It's past twelve." You complain, to which he hums, slowly opening his eyelids.
And there it is again.
Those damn eyes... Those eyes that looked at you as if you were the most important thing to him, with absolute adoration. Full of that affection that made your skin tingle and your knees weak. God, how come this man who initially acted like a demon... Did it end like this?
Overwhelmed, you decided to look away.
His large hand cupped your chin with a firm softness, encouraging you to return your gaze to him.
"Yeah? Is that why you haven't taken your eyes off me?"
Damn.
At this point, it should no longer surprise you that he'll notice those things... But damn! That didn't make it any less embarrassing.
He must have noticed your embarrassment, because his sly smile widened.
"You were looking at me with such intensity that I thought you were going to pierce my face, kitten."
"I-I don't...!" Excuses die out in your tongue, there is no use arguing. You push his hand away and sigh. "Just... I was just thinking."
That gets his attention. He rests his face on his bent arms, and you try hard to pretend that it is something as banal to other mortals as settling into bed, they make it look so perfect, so ethereal, like a muse out of a painting.
It was driving you crazy.
"Yeah? And what were you thinking, pretty?"
Once again, you have to do your best to put on your best poker face to disguise the effect that their disgustingly (wonderful, perfect, amazing) cloying nicknames have on you.
"Nothing in particular..." Your lie is evident, especially by how you avoid his gaze and nervously play with the bedsheets.
He hums, of course he doesn't believe you, in fact, you're sure he already gets the idea... But, as always, he gives you your space, followed with silent reverence the path you chose, and sticks to you with each of your decisions.
Instead, he pulls your arm and wraps it around you lazily, settling your face into his chest, barely hidden under a thin tank top. You can feel his nose on your hair, gently inhaling. Shame pulses through your bloodstream. 
"Sy-Sylus...?!"
"Just pretend I'm one of your plushies and try to get some sleep." Sylus pronounces, and you perceive how drowsiness quickly takes over him. There's nothing you can do, not when those strong arms have you happily captive in their embrace. You can only huff and resign. You listen carefully to the pulse of his heart, as erratic as ever, even when he is in this calm state.
The haze of your memories returns to you for an instant. The smell of sulfur and blood, your fingers on a sword and his voice encouraging you not to stop pressing the dagger... Or else, there would be no turning back.
Absently, your fingers outline where the scar should be, unaware of the effect your touch has on it. He shivers, one of his eyes opens and you feel how his gaze shines with intensity, while he holds your wrist firmly with his fingers.
"Kitten..." He warns, and you lower your hands quickly. He laughs, that rich tone, snuggling back into you.
Once again, a sigh leaves your lips. You imitate him, burying your face in his chest, delighting in the persistent rumble of his heart and the manly scent of his cologne.
Yes, there was a lot he hadn't said... But his actions were very clear. And that was enough, at least for now.
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lovecuprite · 1 month ago
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Kinktober Day 18 - Corruption with Suguru Geto (cult leader)
contains: nsfw content: (mdni), fempov, piv (unprotected), creampie, mentions of getting reader pregnant, oral (receiving & giving), slight manipulation? v brief guided masturbation, v brief spit swallowing, calls reader dove, consensual
˚₊‧ for more kinktober here - wc: 7.8k
a/n: a little slow burn before the smut
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The only sound in the room was that of candles burning up on the altar. Incense heavy in the air seemed to fog up your mind the longer you were breathing it in. You knelt before the stage where Suguru usually stood. In your mind, your eyes set on his image looming over you-royal and imposing.
But it wasn't your imagination of him that held your attention; it was the real Suguru, standing behind you, watching.
"You've been devoted," his voice cut through the quiet, rich and smooth. "Faithful."
Your heart stuttered in your chest at the sound of his praise, but the fear-that had always simmered beneath the awe-remained. Suguru Geto was no ordinary man. To you, he was a saviour. His voice, his teachings had shown you a path to a better world. He'd lifted you from a world full of ignorance and weakness. And you were his now-fully and completely.
"I live to serve you, Mr Geto" you whispered, your voice trembling under the weight of your devotion.
His hand came to rest on the back of your neck, his fingers cool against your skin. The touch was soft, but you knew it was no gesture of affection. It was a reminder. A reminder of the power he had over you. A reminder that you were his.
"And that's what I love about you," he whispered, his hand on the back of your head angling you so you looked up at him. His face was angelic, yet terrifyingly shadowed by his past. "So innocent. So… pure."
The way he said it sent a shiver down your spine; eyes glinted darkly-the look in them far from benevolent. You swallowed hard, not daring to break his gaze.
"You've followed my every word," he continued, his thumb brushing your cheek in a mockery of tenderness. "Listened so well. But you still cling to that part of yourself that resists. That innocent part that fears me."
Your breath hitched in your throat. Fear? You didn't fear him—did you? You told yourself that, the flutter of anxiety in your chest, the shakiness of your breath wasn't fear, but awe and reverence. He was your leader. Your saviour. You'd give him anything, do anything for him. And yet, when he touched you like this, when he spoke to you in that low, possessive tone, a small part of you shook.
"I am not afraid of you," you said softly, your tone almost pleading. You would never want him to think that you were unworthy. Not when you had your entire life dedicated to him.
His lips curled into a smile, but it wasn't kind. "No?" His hand tightened in your hair, pulling you up to your feet with a sharp tug. You gasped in pain, but he silenced you with a single dangerous glance. "You're lying to me."
You shook your head quickly, heart racing as you tried to find your voice. "No, I-”
"You should fear me," he growled low, nearly a tease. "You should fear what I'm capable of, what I could make you into."
Your legs went weak as he pulled you closer, his eyes never leaving yours. The possessiveness in his grasp was unyielding now. "But that's what I love about you," he whispered, his heated breath dancing over your face. "That's what makes you different from the others."
He smiled again, and this time, it was full of malice. "You're still mine to break.”
A cold chill ran down your spine. You had never doubted him, never questioned his teachings, his will. But there was something in his words tonight that did unsettle you. There was something darker than you'd ever seen before and it made you realise just how powerless you were before him.
"What do you want?" you whispered, unable to hide the fear this time in your tone
Suguru's eyes darkened, a smile spreading across his face as if he had been waiting for just that question. "I want to corrupt you.”
Corrupt? He had always talked of purity, and of cleansing the world of weakness and raising his followers. But now… this? It didn’t make sense…yet, with his gaze boring into your eyes with an intensity that made you shrink beneath him, so small and insignificant, you knew he meant it.
"You see," he whispered, drawing closer, his lips grazing the shell of your ear, "Innocence is a flaw. It's a weakness. And I hate weakness more than anything, you know this."
You wanted to speak, to protest, to tell him that you were not weak. You were loyal, devoted, but your words clung precariously to the base of your throat, choking on the budding panic in your chest. You were helpless under his gaze, under his control.
"But don't worry dove," he continued, his voice soft, almost soothing. "I'll fix that. I'll take that innocence from you. I'll mould you and when I’m done… you'll be something far more perfect. You'll be mine. Entirely."
His fingers slid downwards, tracing along your throat. It was as if he was making you aware of his ownership of you, marking you as his. "You've given me everything," he said, his lips now brushing against your skin. "But there's still one part of you that resists, that fears. That's the part I'm going to destroy."
"You love me, right?" he whispered, and his lips brushed the skin just beneath your ear; his voice was dripping with dark amusement. The hand on the side of your throat pressed, just enough that your pulse raced beneath his fingers.
You swallowed and tried to steady your breathing. "Yes," you whispered, though the word came out shaky, uncertain. You had loved him-or at least, you had thought you did. Your whole life had wrapped itself around him, your devotion a shining beacon that led you through every action, every thought. Yet standing here, shaking at his touch, with his malignant promises of corruption echoing through your mind, you wondered whether it was love that had ever tied you to him.
“Say it," Suguru said, his fingers closing that much tighter around your throat, his voice silky smooth. There was a shine in his eyes, something almost feral, carnivorous.
"I… I love you, Suguru," you stuttered, the words sounding empty as they fell from your lips. But it was what he wanted to hear. It was what you'd told yourself every night you'd gone to your knees in prayer before him. Your saviour. Your god.
He hummed low in his throat; the smile on his lips was cruel, darkened by the obsession that seemed to twist inside him like a coiling snake. "Good," he murmured, "Because love, my dear, is sacrifice."
His hand had moved from your throat, and for one moment, you felt this flicker of relief. Though it was short-lived, as he grasped your wrist and tugged you nearer. Flickering candlelight caught in his eyes and the gleam in them made his eyes look like that of a devil.
"What, my dove, is the greatest sacrifice you could make for me?" he asked, liltingly, coaxing you into answering.
You stared wide-eyed up at him as he leaned down, his lips so close to yours as he spoke the answer.
"Yourself."
The word hung in the air like poison, soaking into your brain. Yourself. He didn't just want your love or your faith; he wanted to consume you, strip away the last remnants of who you were until there was nothing left but his creation. A puppet moulded and broken to fit his twisted vision of perfection.
You shuddered, the cold realisation settling over you like a mantle. Yet even then, you could not bring yourself to draw away, could not refuse him. He was everything in your world. Somewhere, deep inside, there was a part of you that knew he had started peeling your innocence away layer by layer, over a long period of time. Tonight was merely the consummation of all that.
Suguru's eyes lingered on yours, his hand clenching around your wrist in a firm-but-not-painful grip. He could feel the shake of your body, the rapid thrum of your pulse beneath his fingers. And he knew that despite the fear which had taken root inside you, something deeper still resided.
Longing.
He didn't have to coax that out of you. It had always been there beneath the surface. You were trapped in his grasp from the very moment you'd first laid eyes on him. Drawn to him in ways you didn't fully understand. His approval, his attention-it was like air. Necessary. Life-giving.
And he knew it. He always had.
"You've been so so loyal," Suguru murmured, softening the sharp edge of cruelty and giving way to something more dangerous, something almost sweet. His thumb traced lazy circles over the back of your hand, a contrast to the possessive grip he still held on your wrist. "So eager to please me. To earn my favour."
Your breath caught in your throat, the ripple of warmth emanating from his words and spreading into your chest. You really didn't want to admit how much it affected you, how much you yearned for his praise. But that was just a fact. You had lived for those moments when he would give you even the tiniest glimpse of approval. A look, a word, a fleeting touch-it was all you needed to feel whole.
“Suguru" you whispered, your voice quiet, but you knew he had heard you.
His lips curled in a slow, pleased smile, and for a moment, his grasp on your wrist loosened, his fingers stroking down your arm in a way that made your skin tingle. "You want my praise, don't you?" he asked, his voice low and velvety, drawing the truth out of you that you'd been trying so hard to suppress. "You want to hear me say that you've made me proud. That you've pleased me."
Your heart was racing, and the intensity in his gaze forbade concealing it. You nodded, barely able to breathe. "Yes," you confessed, the words tumbling out before you were able to restrain them. "I want to please you.”
"Of course you do," he purred, his hand sliding to rest on your waist now, pulling you that much closer until there was barely anything between your bodies anymore. "You live for it. You live for me.”
Like a hook, his words dug deep and dragged with them the raw need that built inside of you over the time you’d know him. You did live for him. For his approval-for his attention. His praise. You wanted it more than anyone else did.
"I do," you whispered, voice shaking but earnest. There was no longer any point in hiding it. "I live for you, Suguru."
His hand tightened on your waist, pulling you flush against him now, the heat of his breath enticing against your ear as he leaned in. "Good girl," he whispered, the praise fuelling something inside you you no longer could deny.
The way those words had tumbled from his lips sent a thrill coursing through your veins. You'd made him proud. You'd earned his approval, his love, and in that one instant, nothing else mattered.
"I've always known you would give me everything," Suguru continued, his lips brushing the side of your neck now. "Because you need me, don't you?"
You swallowed, your pulse fluttering madly beneath the touch. "I do," you admitted, hardly recognising the sound of your own voice. It was desperate, yearning. But it was the truth. You needed him like the air to breathe, like the earth below your feet to keep you standing.
"And you'll give me everything," Suguru whispered, his hand sliding up your back now, to cradle your neck as he tilted your head just enough to meet his gaze. His eyes were dark, consuming, and you were helpless to do anything but fall into them. "Because I am all you need."
The words fell like a spell over you, and you knew in that moment how true they sounded. Suguru had become your entire world, the centre of your universe, and you would do anything-anything-to keep that light shining on you.
"I am yours," you whispered, the words tumbling out like a vow. "I'll give you everything.”
A smirk spread across Suguru's face, and you thought you caught a glitter of satisfaction in his eyes. He had you completely and now he would mould you into something that was perfect. Something that only belonged to him.
"Of course you will," he whispered, moving his lips over yours, soft and barely touching, just a promise of the corruption yet to come. "Because there is nothing else for you, my dove. Nothing but me."
And as his lips finally captured yours in a possessive, claiming kiss, you realised just how far you had fallen. There was no going back, no escaping the gravity of his control.
But when his praise, his touch, and his presence wrapped completely around you, you no longer wanted to. You had been waiting for this moment-longing for it. And now, there was no turning back. You were his-in body, in soul, in every fragment of your being.
The kiss was slow, as if he relished this instant-the taste of your submission. His mouth against yours was possessive as his tongue sought entrance past your lips. You parted them just enough as you kissed him back with all the desperation you'd locked inside, the yearning beneath your devotion, and the need to be wholly his.
He slowly pulled away, his breath mingled with yours, the closeness chasing thoughts of anything but him. His thumb brushed over your swollen lips, his dark eyes glittering with satisfaction, as if he could feel with certainty the way your world had already shifted, how you'd already begun to break under the weight of your love for him.
"There's nothing nicer than to see a person so devoted, so in favour of belonging to me," Suguru whispered; his voice husky. "And you-" he continued, seemingly musing over his next words as his gaze raked over your face, drinking in how you trembled for him. "You're the most precious of them all."
Your chest tightened at his words, the praise filling those hollow parts of you that once felt empty. You were precious to him. He saw you. He wanted you. There was nothing else you needed to hear, nothing else you desired but to serve him, be whatever he wished you to be. The fear and the doubt was already slipping away, replaced with an all-consuming need to prove yourself worthy of his love.
"I’ll do whatever it takes," you whispered, your voice low and firm, your gaze fixed upon him with such regard it almost bordered on obsession. "Whatever to make you proud."
Suguru's gaze was dangerous, but you didn't shrink from it, even as he silently ordered you back on your knees. You leaned into the darkness, dying to have the feeling of his control wrap tighter around you. The tips of his fingers trailed down the side of your face; deceptively gentle, his eyes held a promise of something far more sinister.
"I know you will," he said, his voice making a shiver run down your spine. "You'll become exactly what I want you to be. Pure. Perfect. Mine."
His fingers curled under your chin, his firm touch tilting your head back to meet his gaze once more, and something in the way he looked at you was intoxicating. Like he could already envision how he was going to reshape and mould you into more, into something that was his alone.
"You're so beautiful when you break," Suguru murmured, his lips ghosting over your skin again and sending a wave of heat over your body. "When you give in to me completely."
You swallowed, the weight of his words settling over you like a heavy blanket. And yet, the fear that should have accompanied them was nowhere to be found. Instead, all you felt was anticipation. A dark thrill ran through you at the thought of what he might do next, how he might strip away the last vestiges of your old self and rebuild you in his image.
Suguru slowly moved away from you. You shivered at the loss of his contact, your body instinctively craving his warmth, for the weight of his presence. You remained kneeling, your eyes wide with anticipation, your breathing shallow as you waited for him to make his move.
He looked down at you, his face nearly angelical, save for something behind his gaze-a hunger that seemed to grow the more he watched you. A soft smile tugged at his lips, and the sight of it made your chest tighten with anticipation. You wanted more; you needed more of his approval, more of his praise. Being under his gaze, beneath him, felt like the only place you belonged.
"You're so eager to please," Suguru says, low and teasing, his eyes trailing over your form on your knees before him. "So desperate to please me."
Suguru took in the sight of you, kneeling there, so desperate to please him. His hand moved with languorous deliberation, his thumb stroking across your lips and sending your heartbeat racing. The touch was deceptively soft, almost gentle, but you knew better than to believe its softness. His power, his control over you, was in every stroke of his fingers.
You instinctively parted your lips for him, the need to submit-to give him what he wanted-overwhelming any sense of hesitation.
His thumb slipped past your lips, pressing against your tongue in a possessive, almost casual gesture. You closed your lips around it, your gaze never leaving his while you followed without question, the taste of him on your tongue.
"There you go," he whispered, his voice soft, yet with that undercurrent of control which ran shivers down your spine. "You know your place, don't you?"
You nodded, your heart pounding in your chest, the dominance in his chest making you feel small and helpless but treasured in a way only he knew how. His thumb slid out languidly, dragging across your lower lip before his hand splayed over your jaw, catching your face and holding it in place as he tilted your chin up to force you to meet his gaze.
"Look at you," he said, his eyes raking over your face in dark satisfaction. "So willing. So obedient."
Your body trembled with anticipation, desperate for more of his praise. You'd give him anything, give him everything if it kept you in his good favour, kept that twisted look of affection in his eyes.
"I've trained you well," Suguru continued as his thumb stroked along your jaw-line - light, yet commanding.
Suguru’s hand moves from your jaw to the back of your head. The motion is sudden, possessive, and it sends a jolt of both fear and excitement through you, your pulse quickening. He tilts your head at an angle, exposing the vulnerable stretch of your neck, and the chill of the air against your skin makes you shiver. He leans down momentarily, his breath hot as it skims over your throat, lingering close enough for you to feel the heat radiating from him, but he doesn’t touch you—yet.
“You’re mine,” Suguru whispers, his voice dangerously low, each word sliding over your skin like silk. His lips brush your ear, sending a thrill through you that leaves you breathless. “Body, mind, and soul. I own every part of you.”
His words pierce through you, both terrifying and exhilarating. The truth in them is undeniable, and you can feel your heart pounding wildly in response.
Suguru’s grip tightens in your hair as he pulls your head downward with unyielding pressure, guiding you into position right above his crotch. The roughness of the action ignites something in you, a deeper surrender. He presses your cheek against the hard outline of his cock straining beneath his robes, the heat of his arousal palpable even through the fabric. The weight of it against your face makes your breath hitch, and desire swells within you.
“Show me your devotion,” Suguru commands, his voice laced with lust. “Prove to me how much you crave to please me.”
Without hesitation, your fingers tremble as they work to free him from the confines of his robes. The fabric gives way, and your breath catches at the sight of him—thick, hard, and aching for your attention. A primal need floods your senses and the desire to please him is overwhelming.
You take him into your mouth, your tongue swirling delicately over the sensitive tip. Suguru’s low groan vibrates through the air, his hips shifting slightly as he presses further into your mouth. His hand remains firm in your hair, controlling the rhythm, dictating your pace. He’s pushing you to take more, to take him deeper, and you oblige, wanting nothing more than to feel his approval wash over you like a reward.
“Good girl,” Suguru rasps, his voice strained with pleasure. “Take it all. Show me just how badly you want to worship me.”
His words drive you, and you moan around him, the vibrations sending shudders through his body. You push yourself to take him deeper, feeling the stretch of your throat as he fills you completely. Every movement, every sound you make is for him, to satisfy his desires. His hand tightens, guiding you, forcing you to match the pace he sets as he rocks his hips against your face, thrusting deeper with each pass.
“I’m going to corrupt you-,” he growls, his eyes dark with lust as they bore into you. “I’ll make you mine in every way imaginable, and you’ll love every moment of it.”
His hips grind against you with growing urgency, his control slipping. The weight of his words hangs heavy in the air, and the idea of complete corruption—of being consumed by him—makes your pulse race with both dread and desire. His next words cut through the haze of pleasure, dripping with promise.
“If you’re lucky,” he murmurs, his voice dark and seductive, “I might even make you my wife. Can you imagine it? Bound to me forever, carrying my children, serving me in every way.”
The image of being his wife—of belonging to him in the most permanent way possible—sends a shiver through your body. The thought is intoxicating, and you redouble your efforts, your mouth working faster, more eagerly. You want to prove yourself worthy of his offer, to show him that you are willing to give him everything.
“That’s it,” he praises, his voice rough as his control slips further. “Keep going. Show me how much you want it.”
Your fingers gently run up his thighs, feeling the tension in his muscles as he fights to maintain his composure. His grip on you tightens, and his hips jerk forward more insistently. You can feel his growing urgency, the way his body tenses as you take him deeper, your throat constricting around him.
“You’re learning so quickly,” Suguru groans, his voice low and strained. “I knew you’d be the perfect disciple, the perfect vessel for my desires.”
His praise sends another surge of heat through you, and you push yourself further, taking him to the very edge. His breath comes faster now, more ragged, and his muscles quiver under your touch. His dark eyes remain locked on you, watching as you worship him with your tongue, trailing kisses along his cock.
“Look at you,” he growls, his voice thick with desire. “So devoted. You were made for this—made to be mine.”
Your free hand reaches up to cup his balls, massaging them gently, and his reaction is immediate. His hips jerk forward, and a guttural moan escapes him as the added stimulation pushes him closer to the edge.
"Fuck," Suguru groans, his breath hitching. "You're going to make me come."
You take him deeper, intent on pushing him over the edge. The sound of your mouth working around his cock and his gasps and groans fill the room. When you pull back to take his balls into your mouth, his control shatters and he lets out a raw, primal sound, his body trembling as he teeters on the brink of release.
"That's it," he pants, his voice hoarse. "Worship me. Show me how desperate you are for my approval."
You suck harder, the taste of his skin flooding your senses, and you know he's close. His hips surge against you in a desperate need, his fingers yanking your hair taut as he loses himself to the pleasure. You're giving him everything, lost to his power, and in one blinding moment, you know you can't turn back. You are his-completely, utterly, and irrevocably.
"Shit—" Suguru groans, his voice tight and shaking with pleasure. "Don't stop. Keep going, just like that."
The fervor in his command pushes you further, spurring you to redouble your efforts. Your tongue traces slow, deliberate circles around the length of his shaft as you bob your head, taking him as deep as your throat will allow. Wet sounds from your mouth working around him echo through the room, mixing with the sharp gasps and moans that escape him. Every single one of his sounds furthers you ahead and feeds your longing to give him everything.
Suddenly he yanks you off his cock with a quick, hard jerk. You gasp for air, chest rising and falling as you look up at him, hot and wanting. His breathing is ragged, eyes aflame with lust as he holds your gaze.
"Wan' paint that pretty face" he pants, his voice hoarse with desire.
His hand closes firmly around his cock, stroking it with quick, practised movements. You sit back on your heels and watch, awed, as his body tightens, muscles in his abdomen flexing with every stroke. The tension builds inside him, and you can feel the air between you thicken in anticipation. Suguru's eyes don't leave yours, dark and hungry, as he presses himself closer to the edge.
With a low growl, his body shudders and he reaches that climax, his cum spilling hot and thick across your face. The warmth of it drips down your cheeks, marking you as his. The sensation is electric, sending a pulse of arousal straight through you. You sit still, chest heaving, your face flushed and slick with the evidence of his desire.
Suguru looks down at you, the deep satisfaction and possession written into his features making you feel the weight of his gaze as he is taking you in-marked by him, claimed by him. You know in that one instant you have finally become his, and something inside you clicks, turning in place, sealing the two of you together.
With a slow, deliberate movement, Suguru leans forward, wiping some of his release from your cheek with his fingers. The touch is intimate, almost tender, as he smears the cum across your skin, his fingers brushing the curve of your lips. Without needing to be told, you part your lips, allowing him to press his finger inside. Your tongue instinctively swirls around his finger, tasting him.
“Taste what you’ve done, how well you’ve pleased me.” he murmurs, his voice low and husky with satisfaction.
You suck softly on his finger, savouring the salty flavour of his essence. There’s something undeniably intimate about the act—almost more so than the worship you’d just given him. It feels as though he’s marking you not just physically, but from the inside out, sealing his claim on you. The sensation sends a shiver down your spine, leaving you wanting more.
Slowly, Suguru pulls his finger out of your mouth as he stares at you unblinkingly. "Stand up," he commands; his voice back to its authoritative sharpness. "I want-no-need to see all of you.
You rise to your feet, letting the robe fall to the ground, the fabric pooling around your ankles. Standing before him naked, you let his eyes roam across your form, taking in each curve. His eyes gleam with dark appreciation; you can feel his longing wash over you like a palpable force. He reaches out and his fingers outline your body lightly, as though committing every inch of you to memory.
“You're exquisite” he says in a soft tone, his voice full of deep admiration. “I can see why you've caught my attention.”
He steps closer, his body pressing against yours. You can feel the heat of his skin through his clothes, his erection brushing against your stomach. His hands settle on your hips, pulling you flush against him as his lips hover near your ear.
“Imagine this,” Suguru whispers, his voice dripping with seduction. “You, by my side as we expand our influence. Your beauty and charm, helping draw others to our cause. Together, we’ll create something unstoppable—a following of devoted disciples, eager to worship and serve our every desire.”
His hands begin to roam again, trailing over your smooth skin, caressing you with a possessive hunger. Each touch ignites a fire within you, leaving a burning trail in its wake. You can feel the power in his vision, the allure of the future he promises—a future where you are not just a follower, but an equal partner in his rise to power.
“What do you say?” he asks, his eyes locking onto yours with a dangerous mix of ambition and lust. “Will you join me?”
His words resonate deep within you, filling you with a sense of purpose you’ve never felt before. The thought of standing beside him, building something greater than yourselves, is intoxicating. You feel the weight of his offer, the power of his vision, and know there is only one answer.
“Yes,” you breathe, your voice steady and filled with conviction. “I’ll join you, Suguru, always.”
A slow, satisfied smile spreads across his face at your response. His hands tighten on your hips as he pulls you even closer. “Good,” he murmurs, his voice soft yet laced with power. “I knew you’d be the perfect partner in this endeavour.”
Leaning in, his lips brush lightly against your ear as he whispers, “Now, let’s seal our pact and bind ourselves together in this new world we’re going to create.”
His lips meet yours with fervour, the kiss deep and consuming, as though he’s pouring every ounce of his desire and ambition into it. You lose yourself in the sensation, your body pressing against his, your hands roaming over his back, pulling him closer.
Suguru guides you toward the stage, his hand still firmly gripping your hip, the anticipation between you thick in the air. As you ascend the steps, the vast, empty auditorium stretches out before you, silent and waiting, as though it knows something momentous is about to unfold.
He turns you to face him, his eyes dark with both lust and purpose. “This is where it all begins,” he declares, his voice echoing through the empty hall. “This is where we’ll stand together, united in our cause, and claim our place in this world.”
Suguru cups your face, his fingers firm yet gentle, his touch possessive. “I claim you now—as my partner, my equal, and my lover,” he says, his voice filled with the gravity of his words. “Together, we’ll build an empire. A following that will reshape the world according to my will.”
His lips crash against yours once more, this time with a sense of finality, as if sealing a pact that cannot be broken. The kiss is deep and consuming, a silent promise of the future that awaits both of you. As you pull apart, the weight of the moment lingers, his earlier words resonating within you. You're no longer just a follower but a partner, a co-creator in the new world Suguru envisions. With him by your side, you know nothing will stand in your way.
Suguru’s fingers trail over your body, tracing the curves of your breasts, teasing your sensitive nipples before sliding lower, across your stomach. Goosebumps rise in the wake of his touch, a physical reaction to the heat that builds between you. His voice cuts through the silence, low and husky with desire.
"I want to see you," he commands, his eyes dark and intense. "I want to watch as you touch yourself for me."
His gaze never falters as he guides your hands to your breasts, urging you to caress them, to tease your own nipples. You obey, feeling his eyes on you, and the combination of his focus and your own touch sends waves of pleasure rippling through your body. Your breath hitches, and a soft moan escapes your lips.
"That's it," he murmurs, his voice laced with encouragement. "Just like that."
He helps you settle onto the podium, the cool wood beneath your bare skin a stark contrast to the warmth of his touch. Suguru positions you at the edge, your legs parted, giving him a clear view of your glistening folds. His eyes roam over your body, devouring every inch of you, making you feel both vulnerable and empowered under his gaze.
"Touch yourself for me," he instructs, his tone commanding yet filled with desire. "I want to see you pleasure yourself—watch as you bring yourself to the brink."
Obediently, your fingers glide over your sensitive folds, teasing yourself before dipping inside. A soft gasp leaves your lips as the sensation floods through you, each movement sending a shiver of pleasure up your spine. As you continue, Suguru’s eyes remain locked on you, drinking in the sight of your every movement, his desire palpable in the air between you.
Your fingers alternate between teasing your clit and slowly working their way inside your pussy as Suguru watches, leading your every action.
"You're breathtaking," he praises, his voice low and reverent. "The way you move, the sounds you make—it's intoxicating."
Leaning in, his lips brush against your inner thigh, each kiss sending jolts of pleasure through your body. His mouth trails upwards, his kisses growing more heated, until he finally reaches your pussy.
"Let me taste you," he whispers, his breath hot against your skin. "I want to feel you on my tongue, to drink in every bit of you."
Without waiting for a response, his mouth descends on you, his tongue swirling around your clit with expert precision. The sudden intensity of his touch makes you cry out, your back arching as the pleasure overwhelms you. His hands grip your hips, holding you in place, preventing you from escaping the delicious torment he inflicts with his tongue.
Suguru continues to worship your body with his mouth, his lips and tongue working together in perfect harmony, exploring every inch of your sensitive flesh. His lips suckle at your clit, his teeth grazing it lightly, sending shockwaves through you. You’re lost in the sensations, the pleasure building within you, growing more intense with every passing second.
"That's it," he murmurs, his voice muffled as he continues to work you with his mouth. "Let yourself go. Surrender to the pleasure. I want to feel you come undone."
His fingers slide inside you, curling and stroking in just the right spots, pushing you closer to the edge. The combination of his tongue and fingers is almost too much, your body trembling as you teeter on the brink of release.
"Come for me," he commands, his voice deep with desire. "I want to feel your pleasure, to see you give in completely."
He’s good with his tongue and fingers, too good that you can barely hold on, already fast approaching the edge and with a final flick of his tongue and a deep thrust of his fingers, the tension within you snaps. You’re thrown over the edge, your body convulsing as the orgasm rips through you, waves of pleasure crashing down, leaving you breathless and trembling. Your moans fill the room, your hands gripping the edge of the podium as you ride out the overwhelming sensations.
Suguru doesn't stop—his mouth and fingers continue to work you, prolonging your climax, pushing you further until you’re completely spent. As you come down from the high, your body still trembling from the intensity, he pulls back, his eyes filled with satisfaction and dark desire and his lips slick with your arousal.
"You’re incredible," he says softly, his voice filled with awe. "Together, we’ll be unstoppable."
In this moment, a deep connection forms between you, a sense of purpose and belonging that you’ve never felt before. His words echo in your mind, filling you with pride—you've proven yourself to him, shown that you are worthy of standing by his side as he reshapes the world.
Suguru pulls you into his arms, capturing your lips in a passionate kiss. You can taste yourself on his tongue, a reminder of the pleasure you've just shared. His hands roam over your body, as if committing every curve, every inch of you to memory. When he pulls back, his eyes are filled with both desire and something more—purpose.
"I want you to bear my child," he whispers, his voice low and intense, the weight of his words settling deep inside you. "I want our love to create new life, a symbol of our bond, our power, and everything we’ll build together."
Suguru's hands slide down to rest on your stomach, his fingers splayed as though he can already feel the life growing within you. His gaze is intense, eyes gleaming with excitement as he speaks softly, "Imagine it—a child born of our union, raised in the shadow of our empire, destined to carry on our legacy." His voice vibrates with the significance of his vision, and you can feel the gravity of his request settling into your soul.
To bear his child would be to solidify your bond, creating a living testament to both your love and shared ambition. His cock brushes against your belly, heat radiating from him like a promise of what’s to come, his desire unmistakable. His eyes glimmer with both lust and determination, as if he's already picturing the future that awaits you both.
"I want to watch you grow and change with our new life inside you," he growls, his voice thick with want. "Knowing you're carrying my child..." His cock slides along your wet folds, teasing your entrance with slow, deliberate strokes, heightening the anticipation. Every inch of his movement is calculated to make you ache for him, the tension between you building to an unbearable height.
"Feel how ready you are for me," he murmurs, his voice a dark whisper. "Your body knows what it wants... craves the feeling of me inside you." His cock continues to tease, the head of it pressing lightly against your clit, sending jolts of pleasure through your body. His free hand cups your breast, fingers pinching and teasing your nipple, adding layers to the sensations flooding you.
"I'm going to fill you up," he promises, his voice almost a growl, eyes locked onto yours, burning with intent. "I'm going to make you mine in every way possible."
The anticipation coils tight in your belly as he continues to tease, his cock poised at your entrance but never fully pushing in, the tip only teasing. Your hips involuntarily push toward him, desperate for more.
"Please," you breathe, your voice breaking with need. "I want you inside me."
Suguru’s gaze darkens with satisfaction as he positions himself, his cock ready to push into you. He pauses for a beat, eyes locking with yours, his desire mixed with a hint of triumph. "Are you ready?" he asks, his voice rough, sending shivers through you.
You nod, your body trembling with anticipation. "Yes," you whisper, barely able to get the word out. “Please-”
He wastes no time and in one powerful thrust, he fills you completely, stretching you to accommodate his size. The sudden fullness takes your breath away, a gasp escaping your lips as your body adjusts to the intensity of his invasion. He groans, head falling back, as he revels in the sensation of your tight walls gripping him.
"You feel incredible," he murmurs, his hips starting to move, his cock sliding in and out of you with smooth, powerful strokes. "So perfect, so tight."
You wrap your legs around his waist, pulling him deeper, needing more of him. His hands come up and hold your hips tight, pinning you in place. He starts pounding into you with a brutal, relentless rhythm, his skin slapping against yours, echoing loudly in the empty auditorium.
His cock sinks into you without mercy, each stroke more insistent than the last. The bruising grip on your hips makes it just that much better, his dominion feeding into your excitement. The pleasure borders on pain, but the heady mix leaves you gasping, your mind consumed by the overwhelming sensations that flood your body.
With every thrust, the pleasure inside you builds, his pace quickly becoming relentless. "Take it," he growls, his voice heavy with dominance and lust. "Take every inch of me... let me fill you up."
His words drive you wild, your body responding instinctively as you meet each thrust, your movements in perfect sync with his. The feeling of his cock stretching and claiming you, combined with his commanding presence, is intoxicating beyond words. You surrender fully to him, lost in the rhythm of his body against yours.
Suguru's lips crash down onto yours, the kiss possessive and searing, his tongue dominating your mouth just as his cock dominates your body. The kiss is fierce, almost devouring, leaving you breathless and dizzy with desire. His teeth nip at your lower lip, sending a flash of pain mingled with pleasure through you, and you moan into his mouth, your fingers tangling in his hair to pull him even closer.
He bites down harder on your lip, just enough to draw blood, and the sharp pain sends a thrill through your entire being. The metallic taste of your own blood mingles with the raw ecstasy of the moment, heightening everything. You cry out, your body arching up to meet his powerful thrusts as he drives into you without mercy.
Suguru stares down at you, eyes burning with wild lust, hips digging into yours with bruising force. His rough force and the pleasure and pain all merge into a heady, overwhelming experience that threatens to consume every part of you.
"You're mine," Suguru growls, his voice dark with possession; raw dominance drips in every word. "Every inch of you belongs to me." His grip on your hips tightens, fingers digging into your skin as his thrusts grow more forceful, more demanding. The intensity between you spikes as he pulls back from the kiss, his eyes blazing with lust and power.
"Open your mouth," he orders, his tone commanding, leaving no room for hesitation. You part your lips without a second thought, anticipation thrumming through your body. With a swift, deliberate motion, he spits into your open mouth, his saliva mixing with the lingering metallic taste of your blood. The primal act sends a jolt through you, a declaration of his ownership, claiming you completely.
"Swallow," he commands, his thrusts never faltering as his cock drives in and out of you with relentless precision. The raw, unfiltered nature of the moment sends shivers down your spine, and you obediently swallow, your body responding to his every whim.
As you do, Suguru’s movements become more erratic, his breath heavy and laboured. You can feel his cock throb inside you, the heat of his impending release radiating through you, signalling that he's close to the edge. His voice is strained with pleasure as he growls, "You’re all fucking mine... my most devoted follower."
The pace quickens, his hips slamming against you with a desperate, frantic rhythm. The wet, obscene sounds of your bodies colliding fill the empty auditorium, creating a symphony of raw lust. The squelching sound of his cock plunging into your soaked pussy and the slap of your bodies meeting heighten the intensity, the air thick with the scent of sex and desire.
As Suguru's muscles tense in preparation for his orgasm, his thrusts start to get sloppier. His cock starts pulsating inside you, moving almost wild and desperate. The pleasure becomes overwhelming, your body trembling under his as you feel yourself on the brink.
"Come with me," he growls, his voice low and raw, "Let me feel you come undone around me."
His words are the final push you need. Your orgasm crashes through you like a tidal wave, and you cry out as your body convulses, your walls clenching tight around his cock, milking him. The pleasure is all-consuming, your mind going blank with ecstasy as wave after wave washes over you.
Suguru follows close behind, his hips stuttering as he buries himself deep inside you, releasing with a guttural groan. His cock pulses, filling you with his thick cum, each spurt prolonging the shared pleasure. His head falls back in bliss as he grinds against you, drawing out every last sensation for both of you.
When he finally stills, he remains inside you, his body pressed against yours, both of you breathing heavily. His forehead rests against yours, his breaths short and ragged, the intensity of the moment still crackling between you. You can feel his cum seeping out of you, a tangible reminder of the bond you've just deepened.
He raises his head and your gaze meets, satisfaction and possessiveness swirling in the violet of his eyes. "You're amazing," he says in a husky murmur of contentment. "We are unstoppable."
You smile, still buzzing from aftershocks of pleasure. "I am ready for anything," you say, your voice even and steady, held with resolve. The weight in your words was no less than a commitment-not to him, but to what you were building together.
With one final, gentle kiss, Suguru pulls himself from you, his cum still seeping from your body. He helps you down from the podium, his touch light and reverent, unwilling to let go.
"Come," he says in a soft voice, his hand wrapping about yours. "Let's find somewhere more comfortable. I want to spend the rest of the night with you, exploring every inch of our connection.”
You follow him willingly, your heart pounding in anticipation and you know this is just the start, there will not be a time from now on where you are not by his side.
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@kaeyeahsworld @sukunadckrider @ladyackermanisdead @szired @wastednightsonyou
© lovecuprite ↣ do not copy or translate any of my works
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bookishdreamer28 · 4 months ago
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This man and his damn sexy voice was all I could think about, so hope you'll enjoy this one <33
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"Where were you all this time?!"Sylus appeared in front of you in an instant once you walked in home, looking extremely worried. And to be honest, you couldn't blame him. His life was full of dangerous things and before he met you, it was easy to deal with them. No fear to eat him alive every day, no endless text messages just to make sure that you were ok, no sleepless nights just to make sure that you will always lay right in his arms.
But even though he knew how dangerous things were, a selfish side of him made him see just how calm and perfect everything seemed when you were around.
"Hello to you too"
"Y/N I swear-"
"Stop stressing over nothing. Everything's fine. I'm here now as you can see." You laughed lightly and gently touched the side of his face, caressing it. Sylus exhaled a long breath at the warmth he suddenly felt on his cheek, and his heart. You were unharmed. You are ok. No need to worry.
He turned his head away from your touch and you felt a bit taken aback.
"Love I-"
"You know, at least a message would have made me a little less paranoid" There he was. The grumpy but caring man you so adoringly love.
"Next time I'll consider doing this first"
"Next time?!! Oh no there won't be next time. If it necessary I'll glue myself on your side just to make sure that no one will harm you." He followed closely behind you as you walked in your room. You sat on the bed and started taking off your shoes but Sylus kneeled right in front of you to do it himself.
"Let me take care of you sweetie" Ah this nickname. Never getting old when you hear it coming from him. His voice has been making you feel things since day 1.
You stared at his face as you noticed that he still had his eyebrows furrowed. Like he was still pissed about something.
"Sylus, what's wrong?"
"What's wrong is that- you're driving me crazy" He was face to face with you now, an angry look on his face. His thump brushed your lower lip gently and you felt the heat rising.
"You're driving me so crazy, that there are times were I hate it" he leaned in to tease your lips with a small peck "and other's I want to do nothing more but kiss you for hours" and that's what he did next. He collided his lips with yours, all the tension running through your bodies wild.
"These lips of yours" he said in between the kisses "will always have me on my knees for a taste".
His hands went slowly down to your waist, as he picked you up in his arms so he can sit down on the bed and let you rest on his lap. The kisses did not stop for hours but once you eventually stopped, Sylus made sure to take care of you just like he promised. You ate your dinner, prepared the bed and once you laid your head on his chest and his arms engulfed you in a sweet hug, he felt happy. Happy cause you are here. With him.
"What's in your mind sweet girl?" His voice soft. His hand rubbed soft circles on your arm and you looked up at him.
"Nothing I just...I love you. So much" you nuzzled your head in the crook of his neck. If only you could see his face right now. These three words leaving your mouth always made him weak. So damn weak, that the thought of having someone like you loving him, felt like a dream to him. A dream that he afraid that it was going to stop amd then wake up back to the harsh reality. But he wouldn't let anyone or anything take you from him. The reason of his happiness.
He stared down at you, with so much love in his eyes as he replied:
"I love you" His softly grabbed your chin, bringing you closer to his face so he can seal his lips with yours into another feverishly kiss.
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sednas · 2 years ago
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i wanted to write something nasty but it ended up being quite sweet, don't blame me i just need love
⠀ૈ☆ ex-husband nanami x fem!reader
𓏲 ࣪₊♡ tw: [n]sfw, breeding kink, jealousy, possessiveness, fluffy ending
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it only took one look, just one look across the room full of guests to reignite something that had never really been extinguished.
nanami's grip around his glass of wine got a little tighter, his eyes flashing at you and his heart starting to beat fast.
he became more muscular since your divorce, his shoulders looked stronger, carrying him with much more confidence and charisma than before.
maybe he finally quit his shitty job, you thought to yourself, trying to act cool as you saw him coming closer...
yeah he definitely quit his job, you think to yourself again, laying on your back while his cock is splitting you open.
"I missed you so much my love..."
familiar goosebumps hit your skin and his hands slide along the curves of your waist, the tip of his cock pushing against your cervix.
all you can do is take it, unfocused eyes watching your ex-husband thrusting inside your dripping pussy. nanami grunts, his body pressed against your own, his breath fanning over your neck, and you can't help but moan his name and wrap your legs around his hips, trying to meet his thrusts.
"'missed you too kento..." you try to speak, your hands reaching out to hold his face.
you missed everything about him, the warmth of his skin, his cologne scent, how messy his blond hair gets when you run your hands through it, and the way he knows every single one of your weak spots.
he never fucked you this hard in the past, of course he was rough sometimes, but you can tell something has changed, snapped.
not that you're complaining about it.
your back arches off the bed, making his pelvic bone touch your spasming clit.
"this time I'm not letting you go angel..."
his eyes get darker, thinking about the potential men and women who had you since your divorce, it makes him fuck you harder, deeper.
"mine..." he whispers, more to himself than for you to hear.
he takes your hands to pin them above your head and smiles when he hears you whine.
"you're gonna cum angel?" he asks, not slowing down his thrusts.
he knows you by heart, and he smiles when you nod, his mouth starting to suck on the soft skin of your neck, marking you.
"that's okay, I'm gonna cum too..." he says, and you can feel his hot breath hitting your skin.
he keeps rubbing your sweet spot, completely lost in the feeling. god he missed that feeling, you're the only one who can make him lose his mind like that, he can't believe he let you go when you're this perfect.
"you're still not on birth control?"
and he smiles again when he sees you shake your head. so perfect.
"gonna put a baby in you yeah? gonna make you a mom... will you let me angel?"
you mindlessly nod your head, wrapping your legs tighter around his waist, your whole body is trembling and you feel his cock twitches inside of you.
"please... breed me..." you sweetly asks, and he can't deny you.
your vision gets blurry, your eyes roll back and you violently cum around his cock as he does the same in you, still thrusting to push his cum deeper. you both stays silent for a few seconds, nanami's head buried in your neck, inhaling your familiar scent, closing his eyes of content when he feels your hands rubbing his back.
"I love you, I've never stopped loving you, even after six years..." he whispers, his voice sounding almost vulnerable as he kisses your shoulder.
you ruffle his hair, and you whine a little as you can feel his cock still pushing against your cervix.
"I'm here now, I won't leave."
he hums, his arms wrapping around your waist and you can feel yourself slowly drifting off to sleep.
this time you both won't let go of each other.
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viennacherries · 20 days ago
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okay hi sorry i need to talk about the lucanis romance for a moment and why i think it's absolutely perfect. spoilers below the cut ofc
so obviously there are a limited number of romance scenes. i really do believe in the case of lucanis' romance this lends itself to telling his story.
we learn through party banter with him and emmerich that his relationship with rook is his first. and that's not suprising really, he's an assassin. he faces death constantly and aside from the fact that he could die at any moment, being in a relationship gives his enemies a weak spot to exploit. love and the weakness required to accept and give it is a risk he cannot afford in his line of work.
then you add on the fact that he's been in the ossuary for a year. he was definitely sure he was never getting out of there. and then he does but he's possessed.
so here's rook. and they're flirting with him and being all enticing and he thinks they're great. but he doesn't deserve love and he certainly can't risk it. he's an abomination, he'll put them in danger. and what happens afterwards? when he goes back to taking contracts? it only takes pissing off the wrong person once for rook to be in danger. so he mostly just talks around it. tried not to think about it or aknowledge it.
and then spite breaks through for the second time. and there's rook. again. and they're soft and understanding and kind and they remind him that under everything else, all of the trauma and the fear, he's human. they make him feel so safe and he starts to let his walls down.
we can't know for sure why he pulls away in that moment, but i think it's because he reminds himself how dangerous it is for him and for rook. he wants them terribly but it's such an awful no good idea so he drags himself away.
but he still cares for them. he makes them dessert and he keeps them safe and eventually he has to admit to himself that they're not just friends anymore.
and then rook is taken into the fade by solas.
he never tells rook, you only find this out in a bellara romance, but rook is in the fade for weeks.
all that time, lucanis is there and he's just full of regret. because holy shit he's fallen in love with them and now they're gone and he should've just told them. he should've held them like he wanted. because now he can't and he never will again.
and then they're back.
and he comes into their room and his words are so simple.
"i never thought id see you again. i thought id lost you"
and obviously the rest of his dialogue can vary in this scene but all of it is SO weighted if you consider the fact that he really did think they were dead.
"i do. i know how to feel."
"it's one of the things i love about you"
"i'm not going anywhere."
he is in LOVE with them and he's tired of fighting it. he's tired of pretending he isn't. he's tired of denying himself of what he wants because he's scared. because ultimately he did lose them, despite how careful he'd been, and it hurt just the same.
"i know how to feel." because he DOES now.
so in the last battle, before you fight elgernan, he tells you again just how much he loves you. how he'll do anything he needs to to be back in your arms when it's over. because those weeks without you were torture and he never wants to do that again. he wasted all that time terrified to hurt you but you got hurt anyway. why keep pretending? why keep denying himself the person he wants more than anything in the world? he goes from 0-100 because this is so much more real now. there's so much to lose.
"i've assumed you knew my heart because it beats for you. it's been beating... when i wanted you. when i was afraid to want you... tell me this ends with me asleep in your arms and i will kill any god you ask."
this one sentence conveys EVERYTHING. all of his longing throughout the game. how long he has loved rook. he didn't say it because he was afraid. but he's not afraid anymore.
so much of lucanis' romance is about subtext. it's about the things he doesn't say rather than the things he does.
i think it's absolutely beautiful.
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mingi-s-dimples · 2 months ago
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See yourself through my eyes - San
KINKTOBER DAY 9, REQ. BY anon ✨️
~"1. Could you write a San x f!reader fic where San buys a giant mirror to keep next to his bed. He makes the reader sit on his lap in front of the mirror and fingers her (maybe some pussy slapping) and she has multiple orgasms just from that. He then manhandled her into other positions on the bed and fucks her while telling her to look in the mirror the whole time. The reader's shy, so she keeps looking away, so San teases her and forces her to look. Sorry if this isn't too kinky for your liking, but this is my biggest turn on. San being a soft pleasure dom and praising me while fucking me into the mattress until I can't speak.... ; Some kinks I'd like to see: PRAISE, San telling the reader to suck his fingers, teasing, marking, calling the reader princess, maybe reader's hands being restrained by handcuffs/ a tie/ rope or just San using his one of his hands. Just soft San."
pairing: bf!san x gf fem!reader
genre: 18+, filth
summary: your boyfriend invited you over to show you something he just newly bought and.. you're fucked senseless the same damn night.
wc: 3.3k
warnings: soft dom!san, slightly brat!reader, mirror sex, restraining (by belt), marking (hickeys) manhandling, multiple positions, multiple orgasms (for f multiple for m once), implied 2nd round, reader is loved, san is so damn in love with reader, use of sex toys (mini vibrator), fingering, finger sucking, cum play, cum eating, unprotected (booo wrap up irl!), completely consensual, established relationship, pussy slapping, pet names (sweetie, princess), unedited, for sure forgot something;
Author's Note: I'm so damn in love with this fic fr. Mirror sex is one of my weaknesses, thank you so much anon for giving mr the opportunity to write th idea !!! i hope you'll like it 💗💗
Disclaimer: This is a work of fiction and does not represent in any way the reality of the member.
You were always excited to spend time with San. His presence was warm, comforting, and full of a kind of energy that made your heart race every time you were with him. Today was no different. He had invited you over for dinner at his place, something the two of you did often, but there was something about tonight that felt different, more intimate.
The evening started off quietly enough. You arrived at his place and were greeted by his bright smile, his eyes lighting up as soon as he saw you at the door. San pulled you into his arms the moment you stepped inside, his strong embrace making you feel instantly at ease. You smiled, resting your head against his chest for a moment, enjoying the feel of him, his heartbeat steady beneath your ear.
“You made it,” he said softly, his lips brushing against your forehead.
“Of course,” you replied, looking up at him with a playful grin. “Like I’d miss spending time with you.”
San chuckled and led you to the living room where dinner was set up on the coffee table. It was simple, but thoughtful, with candles flickering softly on the table, casting a warm glow over the room. You sat together on the couch, eating and chatting about everything and nothing all at once, the comfortable rhythm of your conversation punctuated by his occasional teasing or affectionate touches.
He was like that, always finding subtle ways to touch you—a hand on your knee, fingers brushing against your arm, or a light squeeze of your hand. It made your skin tingle, a constant reminder of the closeness between you two.
After dinner, you leaned back into the couch, feeling satisfied and content. San looked at you with that familiar, mischievous glint in his eyes, the kind that told you he had something on his mind.
“Wanna see something?” he asked, his voice low and smooth.
You raised an eyebrow, intrigued. “What is it?”
Instead of answering right away, he stood up and reached for your hand, gently pulling you to your feet. Without saying a word, he led you down the hallway toward his bedroom, his grip on your hand firm but comforting. You followed him, your curiosity piqued by his sudden change in mood.
As soon as you stepped into his bedroom, your eyes were immediately drawn to something new, something that hadn’t been there the last time you’d visited. A massive mirror stood against the wall, right next to his bed, angled in such a way that it faced the mattress directly. It was framed in dark wood, elegant and bold, reflecting the soft lighting of the room back at you.
You blinked in surprise, your lips parting slightly as you took in the sight. The mirror was huge, impossible to ignore, and its placement next to the bed sent your mind racing with possibilities.
“San…” you started, your voice trailing off as you turned to look at him. He was already watching you, that same teasing smile playing at the corners of his mouth.
“What do you think?” he asked, stepping closer to you. His voice was soft, but there was a certain heat behind it, something simmering just beneath the surface.
You felt a flush creep up your neck, the implications of the mirror not lost on you. “It’s… big,” you replied, still trying to process the sudden shift in atmosphere.
San chuckled, the sound low and warm, and you could feel the way the energy in the room had shifted. He moved closer, his body brushing against yours as he leaned in. “I thought it would be fun,” he murmured, his lips close to your ear now. “I wanted to surprise you.”
His words sent a shiver down your spine, and your eyes darted back to the mirror, imagining what he meant by “fun.” The idea of it made your heart race, a mixture of excitement and anticipation building in your chest.. and between your legs.
San’s hand came up to gently cup your chin, turning your face back toward his. His eyes were dark, full of unspoken promises, and his lips curved into a soft, knowing smirk. “Do you like it?” he asked, his voice barely above a whisper.
You swallowed hard, nodding slightly. “Yeah,” you admitted, your voice quieter now, the weight of the moment settling between you.
“Good,” he said, his thumb brushing lightly over your bottom lip. “I thought you would.”
Without another word, San closed the distance between you, his lips finding yours in a slow, deliberate kiss. It wasn’t rushed or urgent, but there was a certain intensity behind it, a quiet need that simmered just beneath the surface. His hand slid to the back of your neck, pulling you closer as he deepened the kiss, his body pressing against yours with a quiet, controlled hunger.
You kissed him back eagerly, your hands finding their way to his chest, feeling the steady rise and fall of his breath beneath your palms. His lips were soft, his kiss firm and unyielding as he took his time, savoring the moment. It wasn’t long before the kiss deepened, becoming more heated as the room around you seemed to fade away, leaving just the two of you, caught in the growing intensity of your shared desire.
San’s hands began to roam, his touch light and teasing as his fingers brushed over your arms, your waist, sending sparks of heat through your skin. He didn’t rush, though. Instead, he took his time, as if savoring the feel of you beneath his hands, the soft gasps that escaped your lips as his touch grew more intimate.
You could feel his eyes on you, even as you kissed, and the weight of his gaze sent a thrill through you. He was looking at you the way he always did, like you were the only thing that mattered in the world, but this time, there was something more—something darker, more possessive. You knew he was thinking about the mirror, about what it meant, and what he was going to do with you tonight.
When he finally pulled back from the kiss, his breathing was heavier, his eyes dark with desire. He looked at you, then at the mirror, and a slow, approving smile spread across his face.
“I want you to watch,” he said softly, his voice barely above a whisper, but filled with an intensity that made your heart race. “I want you to see everything.”
His words sent a shiver down your spine, and you couldn’t help but glance at the mirror again, the thought of what was about to happen sending a flush of heat through your body. You swallowed, your pulse quickening as you nodded, your breath hitching in your throat.
San’s lips found yours again, softer this time, but no less demanding. His hands roamed your body, pulling you closer as he kissed you deeply, his intentions clear. The mirror stood as a silent witness to the growing intimacy between you two, reflecting back the heat and desire that filled the room.
You could feel it now, the weight of his gaze, the way his touches became more insistent, more deliberate. The mirror wasn’t just a decoration—it was part of the experience, part of the way he wanted you to see yourself through his eyes, to witness the way he adored every part of you.
And as his kisses deepened, his hands exploring every inch of your body, you couldn’t help but feel the excitement build, knowing that tonight would be unlike any other.
---
He pulled you closer and embraced you, lifting you up. One hand under your ass and one holding your waist, he pushed the door closed with his knee and carried you to the bed.
The soft glow of moonlight spilled through the window, casting a gentle silver light across the room. You sat in San's lap, your arms wrapped loosely around his neck, bodies so close that you could feel the heat radiating from him. His hands rested on your hips, firm yet tender, as his dark eyes gazed into yours with a warmth that made your heart race.
San leaned in, pressing his lips to yours, the kiss slow and deep. His fingers began to roam, tracing the curve of your waist, sliding up to your ribs, caressing your skin as though he wanted to memorize every inch of you. Each touch sent shivers down your spine, and you melted further into him, feeling the strength in his embrace as he held you closer.
“God, you’re beautiful,” San murmured against your lips, his voice husky and low, filled with admiration. “Every part of you.”
His fingers deftly tugged at the hem of your shirt, pulling it up and over your head with deliberate slowness, as if savoring every second of revealing more of your skin. You shivered as the cool air kissed your exposed skin, but the warmth of his gaze and hands made you feel nothing but heat.
His lips pressed against your collarbone as his hands roamed further, tracing the contours of your body with a reverence that made your heart swell. “I could look at you forever and never get tired,” he whispered, his breath hot against your skin. "Every inch of you is perfect."
You sighed softly as his fingers hooked beneath the waistband of your pants, peeling them down with ease. His touch was gentle yet possessive, as if he was claiming you piece by piece, and every kiss that followed made you forget the world outside this room.
Once you were fully undressed, San’s hands slid up your back, firm and steady as he guided you off his lap and turned you around. You barely had time to process before you found yourself facing the large mirror he had placed at the foot of his bed just a few days earlier. It was new, its reflective surface perfectly clean, and now, it held the image of both of you. His arms wrapped around your waist from behind, pulling you flush against his chest.
“Look at yourself,” San’s voice was soft, yet there was an undeniable command to it as he nuzzled against your neck. "Look at how perfect you are."
Your gaze met the mirror, and you could see him staring at your reflection with an intensity that made your breath hitch. His hands glided over your body, fingers tracing the curve of your breasts, your stomach, down to your hips, every movement slow and deliberate. You could feel his lips brushing your ear, the heat of his breath making your skin tingle.
“I want you to see what I see,” he murmured, his voice a velvet whisper as he kissed the side of your neck. "I want you to see how breathtaking you are. How you drive me crazy, just like this."
His fingers slid down your arms, his touch so gentle it made you shiver. In the reflection, you saw how his hands worshiped your body, how his eyes never left you. His lips pressed to your bare shoulder, trailing kisses as he whispered, "You're a masterpiece."
You could barely recognize yourself in the mirror, flushed and breathless from his touch. His adoration and his words made your heart pound, and when he whispered once more, it felt like a promise.
"You’re mine," he breathed, his hands holding you even tighter. "And I’ll never stop showing you how much I love everything about you."
San sits on the edge of the bed, his legs parted slightly as he gently pulls you onto his lap. His hands are firm but warm, guiding you to settle against him, your back pressing into his solid chest. His lips brush against your ear as he murmurs, “Look.” You shake your head slightly, bashfulness creeping in, but he doesn’t let you turn away.
“Don’t hide,” he whispers, his voice soft yet commanding. His hand tilts your chin up, gently but insistently guiding your gaze towards the mirror in front of the bed. The reflection shows the two of you intertwined, his arms wrapped protectively around your frame.
Your cheeks flush, and you try to avert your eyes, but San’s touch lingers, coaxing you to face yourself. “You’re beautiful,” he says quietly, his voice filled with admiration. Slowly, his hands trace the seam of your panties and bra.
He takes his time, savoring each moment as he unbuckles your bra, revealing more of your bare skin to the mirror. His eyes never leave your reflection, and neither do yours, despite the heat rising in your cheeks. “Look at you,” he breathes, pressing a kiss to your exposed shoulder. “You’re stunning, just as you are.”
With every word of praise, he slowly takes off your panties too, leaving you completely bare. His hands caress your skin, exploring, appreciating every curve and line as he murmurs softly into your ear, “You’re perfect. Don’t be shy—see what I see.”
And though your heart is racing, there’s a comfort in his voice, a reassurance in the way he holds you, making it impossible to look away.
Let's see.. my love" San said and softly pulled your legs apart, your folds spreading out at the same time. Your cunt was already dripping wet when he touched you, peeking a smile on lips in the mirror. His right hand was holding you close to his body, also holding one leg in place. The other one, you had to hold it yourself. San's left hand carresed your thigh before slowly making it's way to your folds, two of his fingers spreading them out and softly circling your clit.
"See how beautiful you are? And how damn.. hot you are. All spread out for me... that's how I like it, darling" San whispered in your ear, kissing your neck and his fingers made their way inside, now slowly pumping them in and out. Your walls clenched onto his fingers and a low groan could be heard from behind you, from San. He was... overly excited about the situation, you could feel his cock straining against his pants and your ass. But he was taking his time, he didn't want to fuck you, yet.
"Let's make things a little bit more... exciting. " and his hand reached in a drawer near his bed, taking out a mini sized vibrator. "Here babe..." he turned it in and started circling your clit with it, "I know you can take it." he teasingly said, softly biting your shoulder. He knew that for you, this combinationnwas fucking deadly. As soon as he started rubbing your clit and pressing the toy onto it, you started squirming under his grip, to which he held you promptly in place.
"Nuh-uh, babe. Look in the mirror" he turned your head around by softly moving your chin, making you look. Face flushed, teary eyes and legs trembling. That's how fucked out you were already only by his fingers. As soon as he started thrusting them into your cunt rapidly, and the toy on the now painful nub, you could feel the heat gathering and forming a knot in your belly. You knew what eas about to happen. You felt so overstimulated that as soon as he hit your g-spot with his ring finger you came once, softly moaning and whining. San's plans were totally opposite to yours, as he started to even more rapidly finger fuck you. It wasn't long until the knot in your belly unfolded again... coming the 2nd, even 3rd time only by San's fingers. That was a thing that only he could ever do... and how damn much he turned you on was driving you insane. "Suck" he signales to his fingers in the mirror, to which you, of course, submitted. You started licking his fingers up and down, tasting your juices and his saliva, a mixture made in heaven. He slapped your folds two times, diverting your attention for a moment. You muffled out some whines, with which San seemed pleased with
"What a good princess I have... now, let me have even more fun" he said and manhandled you on your fours, pushing your face to the mattress, ass up and your eyes in direct eye contact with the mirror. The view was so damn hot.. you thought. San's big hand holding both of your wrists right against your back, the other hand unbuckling his own pants and throwing every layer of clothes he had left on the floor.
San then tied your hands up with his belt, smirking at the sight. "Remember that a couple of days ago you were making fun of me for not ever daring to tie you up? What do you think now, princess?" he said, lips curling in a knowing smile. You tried to muffle sometning, but to no avail. "What, did the cat get your tongue, hm" he teased.
"N-no.." you tried to say, barely above a whisper. Your head was already dizzy and the night wasn't even close to finishing.
He squeezed your ass twice before pushing himself in your drenched and dripping pussy, getting a loud moan out of your slowly rising breath. As he already took care of your hands, tied at your back, he only had to take care of your brattiness of not wanting to look in the mirror. But he was kinda gentle about it, correcting you in the softest way possible.
As soon as he started pounding into you, you tried to avert your eyes from the mirror, but he didn't let you, of course. He wanted you to see. He wanted you to see how well you're taking his cock all up your cunt, squelching and clenching around him with every thrust. This position always drove him nuts, having full access to your body however he wanted. He was still inches deep in you when he started kissing and sucking marks on your back and shoulders, then on your neck and collarbones. It felt like you were making love to him, but with a twist. It was always like this.
"See.. babe? isn't it so nice to see how good you're taking me?" he panted out. "It turns me on even more... fuck" San groaned. "I'm damn close, princess."
"M-me too-" you muffled out.
He started pounding into you even more rapidly, but in a mere second he changed positions and you were now sitting on his cock, him sitting on the side of the bed, your cunt on full display in front of the mirror, of course. He held both your legs up, spreading you out as much as possible. "You're so damn beautiful like this.. you're perfect" he moaned out as he finally came after pounding you in that position for a minute. He lifted you up and placed you on the bed, your back arching against the mattress as he started kissing your body.
"See this, baby? How your body reacts to me? How you tense up in pleasure... how your legs tremble and how your sweet, pink pussy drips for me?" he murmured. "I'm so damn in love with you... and I've wanted to show you just how much I want and love you, my princess."
"I-i love you t-too, Sannie.." you managed to whine out.
"Everything good?" he asked.
"Y-yes.."
"Up for a second... round? I have so many damn positions to try on you, my love. This mirror was the best investment I've ever done. Would you like to get one on the.. ceiling, too?" he giggled.
"Yes and... maybe?" you smiled, leaning in for a kiss.
The night was just about to get started.
NETWORKS:
@blossomnet
@illusionnet
PERMANENT TAGLIST:
@cypher-03 @mingleshine @musiclovingfairy @crazylittlebisexual @sanhwalvr @gong-fourz @arki-sha @artistic-rendition @hongjoongtime117 @woolysium
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almond-tofuuu · 9 months ago
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Wanna sit on Zayne’s lap (innocently) facing him with my face buried in his chest while he works 😊 and then maybe after a while grind on him a lil, just enough to rile him up, and then keep doing it until he snaps and pounds me into the nearest surface 😊
anon you are not the only one who wants to do this!!! If I've said it once, I'll say it again: ZAYNE WANTS US TO GRIND DOWN IN HIM!! why else would he keep letting us sit in his lap 🤷🏻‍♀️
Also sorry it took so long for me to write this, work has been brutal 😭😭😭 hope you enjoy!!
Dangerous Game
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Zayne x reader
Warnings: nsfw minors dni, grinding, orgasm denial, Zayne's big dick (it needs it's own warning), pet names (Angel)
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Zayne was busy, always busy. Even when he came home after a long shift at the hospital, he still had more work that needed to be completed. And you understood, you really did, his job was very important and his meticulous nature was just one of the many things you loved about him. But right now you were cursing the seemingly neverending amount of paperwork stacked on the desk next to him. Hearing that he had actually gotten off work on time for once, you were looking forward to spending an evening curled up on the sofa with your loving boyfriend. But your plans were cut short the moment he picked up a pen and started filling out documents. Watching him from the doorway you let out a small sigh, resigning yourself to spending another evening entertaining yourself, when an idea formed in your mind. Hiding the mischievous smirk growing on your face, you tiptoed your way over to Zayne, stopping beside his chair, gently poking his shoulder. Zayne's eyes flickered over to you, pen halting mid stroke as he gave you his full attention.
"Is there something I can help you with, Angel?" His smooth voice never failed to make your heart flutter, honeyed tone soft and tender, a sound reserved solely for you. Your fingers play with the cuff of his sleeve, a small pout on your lips, one you know he loves. "Can I sit with you? I missed you so much and I just want to be close to you for a while." The corners of Zayne's lips curl up into a soft smile, and you knew he'd give you whatever you wanted, after all Zayne could never say no to you. You were his weakness.
An amused chuckle left Zayne's lips as he swivelled his chair to face you, one hand holding yours whilst the other tapped his thigh, inviting you into his lap. "How can I refuse when you asked so nicely. Come on then, take a seat, Angel." He gently pulled you closer, helping you to straddle his lap, another deep chuckle rumbling from his chest as he watches you bury your face in his chest, breathing in his familiar scent. "Now be good for me, I'm almost finished with these reports. Then we can go watch a movie together." He gives a light squeeze to the plush of your hips before his hands leave you, picking up his pen and resuming his work.
You want to be good for him, you really do try, but your mind begins to wander. There's something about being surrounded by him, his scent overwhelming your senses, the steady rhythm of his heart, his muscular thighs below you, it ignites a fire deep within you, and with every passing second you can feel the growing ache in your core.
You start small at first, squirming slightly in his lap, little wiggles that you play off as "just trying to get comfy". And for a while it's enough, but soon the throbbing in your cunt gets stronger, your clit begging for more friction, something to relieve the pressure building up in your lower stomach. You give an experimental rock of your hips, freezing to wait for Zayne's reaction. When he doesn't respond you do it again, setting a steady rhythm as you grind down on his lap. The zipper on the front of his slacks rubs perfectly against your sensitive clit, the pleasure increasing with every roll of your hips, head burying further into the crook of Zayne's neck, his masculine scent filling your nose, pushing you even closer to your orgasm that is building steadily. Your pussy is dripping now, soaking your panties, your empty hole flutters and pulses as you continue grinding in Zayne's lap, too lost in pleasure to register the tiny whimpers leaving your mouth, forgetting all about subtly as your minds only focus is on your orgasm that is fast approaching. Speeding up your movement, hips pressing down harder into his, a breathy moan of his name falls from your lips as you're about to reach your peak. Just as you feel yourself tumbling over the edge, two strong, cold hands firmly grab your hips, halting your movement completely. You whine desperately at the loss of your orgasm, hips frantically chasing more of that delicious friction that would have your cunt gushing into your panties, but it's useless. Zayne's vice-like grip prevents any of your movements, cold fingers bruising as they dig into the soft flesh of your hips.
"Did you really think I would let you finish like that, Angel?" Zayne whispered lowly in your ear, dark tone sending a shiver down your spine. "I thought I told you to be good, but it seems my girl was just too desperate to wait." You let out a pathetic mewl as Zayne presses you further into his lap, only now noticing the large bulge that has formed in his pants, his cock hard and begging for relief as it grinds against your clothed pussy. "You wanted my attention, Angel? Well you've got it. And I'm going to spend the rest of tonight teaching you what happens to bad girls who don't do as their told." He chuckles darkly, hips rutting up into yours, mercilessly guiding your sensitive cunt along the length of his confined cock. "And I'm not going to stop until you're a begging, whimpering mess."
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prongsx · 2 months ago
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Lazy Sundays
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warning: fluff, f!reader, Jason being a cute guy. English its not my first language. established relationship.
Jason had always been an alert person. It was tiring, but he couldn't help it. Life forced him to never rest.
It started when he was still young, he had to be alert so he wouldn't die in the alley of crime, if he made a false move he could end up in a web of crimes and murders. He had to be alert to keep his own mother from self-destruction, had to be constantly checking her breathing, if she had eaten, if she hadn't used her subsistence money for drugs. He learned that being a heavy sleeper was dangerous when his house was shot at and he had to hide under the table, eyes full of tears.
Then Bruce adopted him, but he had already lost part of his ability to be a child, never carefree. And now he had the burden of showing Bruce that he was good enough, that he wasn't wasting his time training a boy with too many emotions. Always alert. He had too many emotions, he knew that. His love was wide and deep, but so was his anger. His sadness was like sharp claws scratching his skin from the inside out. He needed to stay alert to keep his emotions in check, because they could consume him.
Being Robin kept him alert, he needed to take care of himself and Batman's back. Even Dick, who had years of training, found Jason too vigilant, his eyes never seemed genuinely relaxed and Dick found out the hard way. He went to play a prank on Jason, waking him up in the middle of the night, but the boy reacted in the worst way and before Dick could react, there was a knife pressed against his neck.
When Jason died and came back with Red Hood, his sense of survival became stronger. There were too many people wanting to kill him, the anti-hero had twice as many enemies, sleeping in peace was not an option. He had so many knives and hidden weapons that he would get scared when he went to brush his teeth and found an AK 47 in the bathroom cabinet. He needed to be like that to survive.
Then he met you. And his knees got weak, his heart raced faster than when he had a gun pointed straight at the vigilante's heart. After much difficulty, you started dating, even though Jason warned you that dating him was a death sentence.
You didn't listen to his warnings, forcing him to stop self-deprecating and start acting like a functional adult (as much as possible) to be in a relationship. Jason was right, he was too busy with his double life. He almost never relaxed, worried about taking care of you and protecting you from his enemies.
After a few fights, you decided that for the relationship to work, you would have at least one day a week to be lazy. You started it: Sunday morning. You needed to know that at least one day a week you would have Jason completely. It was hard to live with the distance his night shift required. So he committed to keeping up this new tradition.
"I'm hungry," Jason just mumbled in response to your plea. It was 10 am on a Sunday morning and neither of you were willing to get up, just like you forced them to. Your legs were intertwined, a thin sheet covering you, Jason's hands holding you tightly against him, his soft lips against your shoulder. The sun was coming in through the curtains, Gotham seemed silent, the only noise that mattered to you was each other's breathing.
"The bakery should be delivering by now," Jason replied, sighing contentedly as you drew patterns on his arm. One of the rules of Sunday morning was to make no effort, even cooking. You knew Jason liked to cook and take care of you, but at least one day a week you allowed yourself the luxury of eating ready-made food.
"It should be at the door by now," you mumble, finally opening your eyes and finding your boyfriend's beautiful face. Jason imitated your action, his sapphire eyes seemed clouded with sleep, which pleased you. Yesterday you had gone out to dinner and stayed up late watching movies and kissing on the couch, which explained how tired they both were.
"Let's get it then," Jason's voice was still hoarse, his black hair cutely messy. He let out a groan of complaint when you pulled away from him to get up, causing you to laugh.
As soon as you established lazy Sunday, it was as if a switch had turned in Jason's head. It was impressive to admire how beautiful Jason looked relaxed, his shoulders without all that tension, his features less marked and even his scars relaxed.
Peace would suit Jason, you thought.
The two of you shuffled into the kitchen, talking in whispers, your hands never leaving each other. Jason walked close behind you, his large hands holding your hips close to his body.
Your boyfriend had a silly smile on his lips, the joy of being with you leaving him on cloud nine. He noticed how beautiful you looked in your sweat shorts and with his shirt, you smelled of comfort and love.
"So, our only commitment is to have coffee and kisses at the counter, right?" Jason hummed, a huge smile on his lips, the sun seemed brighter. Then clouds appeared in the glorious sky of the lazy Sunday.
The clouds came in the shapes of three known people invading your window, the largest of them smiling happily. You thought Jason was really sleepy and relaxed, because he didn't even raise a gun towards the intruders, which was customary.
"Good morning, couple." Dick Grayson greeted, closing the window when Damian entered last. You raised an eyebrow, while Jason gave a slight growl behind you. Your hands came up to lightly stroke his hair, urging him to stay calm, he relaxed into your touch, your lazy Sunday Jason returning.
"Okay, Todd, we got some information from that case we were working on." Damian said, being the rude little punk that he is, throwing work papers on their kitchen table. Tim Drake followed suit, leaning against their counter, where Jason planned to kiss you until you forgot your name.
"Boys," you called out to them, clearing your throat. Three pairs of eyes stared at you. "Today is Sunday."
You sighed when none of them reacted. Damn workaholic sons of Bruce Wayne. Your feet shuffled to the kitchen door to get breakfast, leaving Jason to take care of his brothers.
"Jason, we need those other documents you saved." Dick said, sitting down next to Damian. Jason let out a long sigh, he still felt numb from being in bed with you. He wouldn't let his brothers ruin his favorite day of the week.
"Can we fix this tomorrow?" The three brothers stared at Jason, their eyes equally wide. The fearsome red hood's posture was so relaxed, his pajama top slightly torn and loose. His hips leaned on the counter and his blue eyes seemed clearer, almost serene. His hair really looked like a mess, the white lock falling over his forehead in a cute sort of way.
"Jason, did you hear us? It's the case you've been working on for months." Tim said, still looking perplexed. Jason sighed, his features still marked by prolonged sleep.
"Yeah, yeah. So?" He grumbled, a smile appearing on his lips when you came back with the breakfast bag. Handing him a cup and pouring coffee. He whispered a quick, "Thank you, honey."
Damian was the first to recover from the shock, his hands holding a particularly suspicious photo that would solve half of Jason's case.
"Todd, big drug case! You spent months bugging everyone for clues."
Jason just shrugged, sipping his coffee and resting his face on your shoulder, humming with joy.
"One day more, one day less."You could have laughed at how Dick looked like he had been slapped in the face. Your heart was bursting with pride for your boyfriend, who had finally learned the meaning of being at peace and lazy.
"Who are you and what have you done with little wing?" Dick said, blinking those big blue eyes slowly.
You turned your back on the little argument again, not wanting to interfere in the family dynamics, busying yourself with taking your breakfast out of the bag from your favorite bakery.
"Take those papers off the table, let's have breakfast." Jason replied with just that, making Tim's eyes pop out. He looked like a different Jason, without his characteristic sarcastic smile or the tense shoulders.
"Todd, we need to figure this out!"
"Jason, it won't take long..."
Jason let out a louder sigh now, leaving the Wonder Woman mug in the corner and turning to his brothers, his tone of voice still soft compared to normal. "Today is Sunday." He repeated, pinching his nose slightly to keep his temper from rising. "I'm staying with my girlfriend. I'll figure this out with you guys tomorrow."
He turned to you, almost as if he expected to receive a proud smile, and he got one. Damian let out a snort.
"Todd, be a man for once in your life and stand up for yourself."
"He's too tangled up in the leash." Tim joined in the provocation, unable to contain himself.
"Wrong choice of words, boys," you whispered, knowing what was coming next.
The three of them were startled when Jason's hand slammed on the table they were at.
"I'm only going to say this once. It's Sunday morning. If you little shits are unhappy and girlfriendless, that's your problem. Either you're going to leave now with these papers or I'm going to use the gun I have hidden behind the fridge."
Jason's blue eyes were that darker shade that screamed: danger! It didn't take much more, the three guards took the papers and left muttering, you heard a few words that sounded like "this will come back, Todd" and "I'll tell him where he can stick that gun."
You turned to Jason, your hands going to his tense shoulders.
"Honey, it's okay, I'll accept if you want to help them."
He let out a snort, pulling you against his chest, smoothing the skin under your shirt.
"No. It's our lazy Sunday."You smiled, ridiculously content, pulling him into a lazy kiss.
"Speaking of which, gun behind the fridge?"
He distracted you with a kiss at the base of your neck, a small chuckle leaving his lips. Bastard.
It was a good lazy Sunday.
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syluss-slut · 3 months ago
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•°•°•Safe Embrace°•°•
Summary: your uterus pulls a fuck you by starting your period early even if you just had one two weeks ago, but your 6'2 boyfie is here to cuddle the pain away.
Pairings: Sylus×Reader ⚡
Warnings: tooth rotting fluff, mention of period pain.
A/n: yearning is at an all-time high rn. LIKEYOU DON'T UNDERSTAND I NEED THIS MAN SO BAD HNSGBFBSHDNBHSN
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You walked towards sylus's room in heavy steps. You were even surprised your body could hold on for that long.
Your period took you by surprise, coming back again after not even two weeks. Beauty of womanhood, isn't it? You spoiled your favourite pajama pants because of that and on top of all this, it was a heavy flow. In the middle of a productive week. Could it get any worse?
You knocked on his bedroom door, sylus taking not even a second knock to open it for you. As soon as the door opened, you managed to take one step in and collapsed right after. (Un)surprisingly, you didn't hit the floor, but rather found yourself in sylus' safe embrace, as he caught you just in time.
As he brought you to the bed, you silently start weeping in his chest. Tears run down your face due to the pain you were in.
Alarmed, "what's wrong, kitten?" Sylus enquires, a soft look in his eyes, concern in his voice.
Somehow, it made you cry even more. Your period hormones were driving you crazy.
He sits down on the bed, with you in his arms and now on his lap. One of his hand is on your back, soothing you and the other holds up your chin.
"Talk to me. What is it, sweetie?" He asks, a gentle tone in his voice that you've rarely ever heard him use with anybody other than you.
"Menses" you replied, in a feeble voice through tears.
"You poor thing" sylus thinks to himself.
"Let me get you some painkillers" he says, laying you down. You grab the sleeve of his gray sweater just as he walked out of your reach, making him turn around.
"Stay with me. Please" you croaked.
Wordlessly, sylus slips under the sheets beside you, engulfing you in a hug, making you the smaller spoon.
His large hand is in your hair, massaging slowly, lulling you into sleep.
"Thank you" your voice comes out muffled as you snuggled further into his chest.
With the feeling of being in a safe embrace and under warm sheets, you finally dose off to sleep, the last thing you remember being sylus' lips as he pressed a soft kiss on your forehead.
•°•°•°(⁠っ⁠˘⁠з⁠(⁠˘⁠⌣⁠˘⁠ ⁠)•°•°•°•
When your eyes open, you don't know how much time has passed, but the first thing you acknowledge is the sheets beside you being empty; however they were still warm.
Sylus must have gotten up not so long ago.
Almost as if summoned by your thoughts, you turn to the doorway upon hearing something, and see sylus holding a tray of food.
Your heart melts at his sweet gesture.
"Here. Eat it all and don't forget your meds" he says, placing the tray on your lap.
You decide this isn't enough, "I'm weak all over, feed them to me?" You request, looking at sylus' face to read his expression.
You hear him chuckle, followed by a nod. He picks up the spoon and does as you asked.
The outcome? A few drops of soup spilled on your lap and some of it around your mouth. You smiled at how much effort he was putting into this, which turned into a giggle, which escalated into full-on laughter.
You notice the corner of his lips turn up ever so slightly, and you don't let it slip.
Never in a hundred years did sylus ever see himself taking care of someone, let alone make them feel so safe as to be vulnerable around him. Truly, you changed his life, for the better.
You wiped your mouth clean and didnt forget the painkillers, obviously.
"Rest. I called you in sick for tomorrow" Fuck. You felt like crying again. How can this man perceive himself as 'evil' or whatever the society labels him as? He's just a sensitive soul forced to harden up.
"You know my heart never truly rests without you beside me" you confess, Patting the space beside you, lifting the comforter for him to slip into.
You lay down, and so does he. The soft moonlight in the now dim room fell on his flawless face, it somehow made him look even prettier.
Silver light on his silver hair. You couldn't possibly resist the urge to pet his fluffy hair and so you did.
"Hmm. Keep doing that" Sylus purrs.
You hug him closer, and he rests his chin on the top of your head. Both of you drifting off to sleep once again.
Who would've thought, the feared leader of onichynus, who could have no trouble putting a bullet through one's head, be so vulnerable in his woman's arm?
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eloquentlytired · 3 months ago
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— when the time comes
pairing: old man!logan howlett x gn! reader
word count: no idea but this one isn't very long.
part two is out!
tags: major character death — angst — reader is logan’s sunshine — mention of blood & wounds — logan low-key proposing 5 seconds before he dies — non established relationship
author's note: this has been on my mind since 2 days ago so I had to do it now.. I hope you guys enjoy reading this heartbreak! and yes I wrote this after watching Logan (2017) again. just a bit of an alternative type of ending so I can write abt logan x reader! as always reblogs & likes & conversations are sooo welcome ^_^
god stood me up
and I don't know why
lights are on
but nobody's home
you find him leaning against a tree trunk, a chunk of wood piercing his sides open as blood soaks through his shirt. that isn't the only wound he's sporting but it's the most evident one; the one that'll possibly lead him to his demise.
logan blinks upon noticing you as if he's just seeing things or dreaming. when you crouch down beside him and place your hand on his arm, he realizes exactly just how real you are. “logan?” there are tears in your eyes and he hates that you're crying because of him again. you had been living with him, charles and caliban way before it all turned to shit. and somehow the only ones left standing were laura and you. and the kids that logan had managed to save; he truly had saved so many lives.
there's a silence aside from his heavy breathing before your shaky hands cup his face. the blood flows out of his wound and mouth like a river. in some way you're bleeding too — inside your heart. “hey sunshine.” logan whispers with a soft smile and you feel something tear your chest apart from the inside. “I made you cry again.” you see the way his hand twitches by his side. he wants to touch you but he's old and tired and wounded. there's no energy left in him to move anymore. “the kids are okay, laura is okay— I have the car and..and there's still time— the hospital—” your voice trails off when logan closed his eyes.
“you know what makes me angry, sunshine?” logan asks and you simply stare at him, shaking your head. when he opens his eyes again, they are full of unshed tears. “gonna miss my daughter’s first birthday with me—” logan mutters brokenly and the vision of laura swims beneath his half-opened eyelids. and after laura there is you; smiling. at the beach. you've always wanted to go to the beach with him but he never took you since he was working day and night to take care of everything. of everyone. “and i’m also gonna miss my sunshine.” his eyes fall on you, on your crying face. the tears sliding down your cheeks are plenty and there is so much emotion pooling in those orbs of yours. logan wants to kiss you, tell you it'll be alright. but he can’t even move.
he coughs, some blood spluttering on his white shirt and you flinch. your fingers shake as you slide them through his messy hair, stroking them in the way he’s always loved. “logan, I'm sorry...I— I'm so sorry logan..” you keep chanting and logan feels the frustration in his bones when he tries to move his arms. he can't, he's too weak now, and he's angry with himself that he's unable to comfort you the way he wants. the way he once could but never did. “not you nor the entire world could ever prevent this, sunshine. it was meant to be like this.” he says before coughing again, more blood trickling down his beard.
you crawl by his side, on the dirty ground, and press against his ‘good’ side while leaning your head on his shoulder. you tilt your head back enough for your eyes to reach his exhausted face. logan maintains a smile you haven't seen in forever. in damn years to be precise. “charles spoke to me of other timelines and some shit about— multiverse was it?” he pauses, taking a deep breath. “I don't fucking know. I just wanted him to take the damn pills.” his sentence makes both of you laugh although logan is holding back with that — it'll only cause more physical pain after all. “point is..if it's true then—”
“—we gotta find each other yeah? and laura.” his eyes aren't on you anymore but they're in the sky. it's bluer than ever and the clouds part to show him the sun. logan doesn't look away even if it makes his eyes ache. you stare. “wanna make it right, sunshine.” he tells you as you sniffle by him. his fingers flinch again between your bodies and you slide a single hand down to hold his own, to intertwine your fingers in a gentle mess. “but for now I want to rest.” logan whispers and your grip tightens around his hand. if he had the strength, he'd squeeze back. you knew this.
“you did excellent.” you finally manage to say, a little steadier this time. logan averts his gaze to you as you continue. “you did a good job. you did such a good job.” you repeat with a smile so soft that logan starts yearning for you already. his faint chuckle turns into a rough cough and he takes some time to recover before speaking again.
“maybe after I rest, I'll open my eyes and..” you watch as logan’s eyes begin closing and how the heaving of his chest slows. he's deathly pale by now, the veins underneath his eyes are prominent, but your grip never slackens. you crawl closer until your foreheads touch. logan draws one last breath and you swallow down your cry. “and I'll see my daughter. and my... spouse.” your eyes shoot open wide but logan’s remain fallen shut. your chest heaves up and down intensely but logan’s remains still.
when the time comes, your feet are forcefully dragging you away towards your old car while logan lies beneath the ground.
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nariism · 5 months ago
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wherever you are, wherever you may be — i. rin
soulmates (name au) + "i'm done waiting."
synopsis. itoshi rin meets you under a sky full of fireworks. he spends the next 6 years of his life trying to convince himself that he doesn't love you. you spend the next 6 years giving him every reason why he should.
wc. 12.4k (i need to close my eyes and sleep for a while)
notes. huge thank you to ellie (@hyomagiri) and mari (@saetoshi) for helping me with this 🥹 this fic actually put me through it and i'm so grateful to both of them for their support 💗
— for my beloved @ode2rin 💐 | event masterlist ✉️
─── ・ 。゚☆: *.☽ .* :☆゚. ───
2024
Every year on the seventh day of the seventh month, Itoshi Rin finds himself standing at the daunting entrance to his local shrine.
The tradition is completely beneath him—something childish that he grumbles about under his breath despite letting you drag him all the way out here with soft eyes watching your smile.
Tanabata is the festival of stars. Of love.
It is a story his mother used to whisper to him as they watched the night sky in awe, pretending that the galaxy was collapsing in on itself to allow for a romantic midnight rendezvous between two lovers.
It’s something far too sappy for his liking.
But the food is okay, he supposes, and it’s a good opportunity to get out of the house and spend time with you which he seldom has time to do now that he’s back in his training season.
There were too many things about it that he loathed: the screaming children that would bump into his legs; the way his ears would stay ringing for days after the festival ended; how you could always convince him to come as if you were some sort of hypnotic devil in disguise, and how thoroughly wounded his pride would be at that fact.
However, his least favourite part of the festival by far is writing down his wish for the year on a scrap piece of paper and hanging it around a bamboo tree. One, because he can never for the life of him think of anything meaningful to wish for. And two, because he isn’t sure he even believes in that sort of thing.
Rin is struggling again this year, pencil lightly scratching his temple as he thinks.
He’s painfully aware that he’s never put so much thought into this before, but you seemed so excited to come all the way here before heading to the festivities that he couldn’t possibly let you down.
His wish dawns on him then, something he wants to do before the next time he makes the climb all the way back up here 365 days from now.
“Hey,” your voice calls out quietly. “What did you wish for?”
“What did you wish for?” Rin quickly refutes.
You cast your narrowed eyes from the side, tilting your little slip of yellow paper away from him.
“Only if I get to see yours first.”
Normally, he would give in to you right away. His resolve when it comes to you is embarrassingly weak. But there’s no way for him to explain himself. No way he could show you the words he’s written lest he hurt his ego.
He stubbornly folds up the piece of paper and shoves your face away. All you do is laugh and he feels terribly warm.
“No peeking,” he tells you when you kiss across his fingertips.
─── ・ 。゚☆: *.☽ .* :☆゚. ───
2018
A name appeared for Itoshi Rin when he turned thirteen years old.
He remembers the day well—it was hard to forget, anyway. As much as he wanted to focus on the burning of the name etching its way down his skin, he couldn’t. Not when he was blinking snow out of his lashes and watching his brother’s retreating back.
Rin likes to think that the universe fucks with him in any way that it can.
Maybe he had done something terrible in his past life and this was its karmic retribution, or maybe he was just unlucky.
What he does know is this: the name on his pinky only reminds him of all the things he ever lost.
Every syllable struck needles into his heart—a painful memory of crawling after the tracks of the wheels Sae left behind with his luggage until gravel and ice were stuck under his nails. Or worse, the clawing of his throat as they sat across from each other at dinner—the way he didn't even smile when Rin announced to his parents that his soulmate mark had appeared while his mother cried out in joy.
In fact, Sae didn’t talk to him for the rest of his visit. He remembers that hurt the most.
The name had haunted him for all the remaining years of his life—a forced memory that he wished he could forget. There came with it a feeling of loneliness that crushed him despite the proof on his pinky that there was another soul wandering the earth that would fix him.
He refused to believe it.
Only revenge would fix him. Only proving himself better would heal the cracks in his heart. Only beating Sae. Sae, Sae, Sae. His brother’s name had been repeated so many times that it was easy to ignore the other burning his skin.
In all those years he found it easy to cast aside his soulmate. To ignore it even if it hurt.
So he wonders why it’s so bad tonight.
He’s done everything he could think of: slathering cooling ointment down his finger to stop the searing, wrapping it in a cast to prevent himself from admiring it for too long, even tying a wish to a piece of bamboo hoping it would disappear.
A finger snaps in front of his face, drawing his attention to his teammates in front of him. Both look equally amused.
“You’re dreaming,” Isagi muses. “You’ve been spacing out all night. Is everything okay?”
“I’m fine,” Rin mutters, swatting his teammate’s hand away from him. He had been staring again, longingly eyeing the way the letters danced down his skin. “Just thinking.”
“About?”
“None of your business.”
“Yeesh, it’s not good to keep things bottled up, you know?”
“You’re annoying,” Rin glowers before it melts back into indifference. “I’m fine,” he reiterates.
Isagi seems unconvinced, as he usually is when Rin is being mysteriously vague about what’s on his mind. He and Bachira share a tentative glance before sighing and shaking their heads.
“Well… okay,” he finally yields. “We’re going to get some snacks before the fireworks start. If you’re going to sulk then at least stay put and do it here so we can find you again.”
“Yeah,” Rin grumbles, already making an escape plan. “Whatever. Will do.”
As soon as the boys are out of sight, he turns heel and hurries away. The crowd is driving him crazy and he needs somewhere quiet so he can stare at his hands until his eyes are dry.
He comes to a pond situated just outside of the festival grounds, deep water glimmering under the moon and the passing lanterns.
Plopping down on the bench, he hunches over onto his knees with his elbows and takes a deep breath. It instead comes shallow, as if someone has just punched him in the gut. 
It’s then that he realizes he’s not alone.
Your yukata is muddy, fabric soaked and dripping at the sleeves though you don’t seem to care or even notice. You look frustrated for some reason, lip curled into a concentrated frown while you plunge your hands into the mud around the edge of the water.
Away from the crowds of people, he can hear the summer song of cicadas chirping all around. Your hands dip in and out of the water, quiet splashes filling the rest of the silence on top of the distant buzz of children laughing.
It’s just you and him. Something primal inside of him rages, pounding against his chest until it feels like he’s suffocating.
Run. Run. Run.
His legs jerk, urging him to stand up and leave, but he feels glued down to the bench—tethered where he sits and forced to watch you repeatedly sink your hands into the muddy waters.
No more than five minutes must pass as you both ignore each other, yet it feels like an eternity stretches by. 
Finally, you pipe up.
“You’re scaring them,” you tell him plainly.
His head whips in your direction at your voice, soft and careful. His teal eyes narrow at you. “Huh?”
Your frown deepens, turning to look at him with your hands still submerged. “The frogs.”
“Come again?”
“Your vibes. It’s scaring the frogs away.”
His eye twitches.
“Ever consider that you’re just dogshit at catching them?”
“Excuse me?”
“And look at you, making a total mess of yourself. Don’t you care that you have to go home looking like that?” He presses, leering at you like an insect he’s about to crush under his heel. You simply stare at him, expression blank.
Huffing, you tear away from him and sink your hands beneath the mud. “No. I don’t.”
He watches in silence as you sift around for a moment before pulling your hands up, a smile slowly morphing into your face.
“I got one…” You breathe, looking more elated than he thinks you should. “I really caught one.”
“First time?” He quips sarcastically. A part of him wonders why he hasn’t gotten up and left you altogether yet.
“Cut me some slack,” you complain, eyeing him from the side again. You gently run a finger along the back of the frog, trying not to scare it away. “I haven’t done this in forever.”
“Clearly.”
You snort. “Yeah. Clearly.”
Rin looks at you quizzically, puzzled at your sudden change in demeanor. You seem… softer. Less agitated, at the very least. You’re gazing at the frog adoringly, as if it had somehow solved all of your problems and was dragging you into another world.
Any retort he had ready to shoot at you dies in his mouth. The anger rising in his chest extinguishes in the blink of an eye, and a deep hush settles over you as he watches in curiosity.
For a moment, the universe goes quiet. He’s gotten so used to having everything on his mind all at once that the silence is almost unnerving.
He once believed that his world would end with an injury that never healed quite right, or when he was too old for any team to want him.
He once believed that his world would end when he could no longer imagine the feel of a ball between his palms.
He once believed that his world would end the day he couldn’t play football anymore—that the only thing that would ever kill him was if the chance of standing alongside his brother died with him.
But he was wrong.
Itoshi Rin’s world ends with the bellow of a firework.
In a few years, he would think of this stretch of a few seconds fondly. He would squeeze you a little tighter with his chin resting on your shoulder, staring up at a colourful sky. He would think it was poetic, in a way, that you were the one who painted his world in the same hues of shimmering gold.
Rin remembers, though, that only one thought had crossed his mind.
I’m so screwed.
He can see every fine detail of your face, illuminated in all the colours of the rainbow. And he can’t help but think you are the most beautiful person he’s ever seen. He can trace each intricate curve of your nose to your chin to the surprised parting of your lips; the way your lashes flutter as you blink rapidly, tensed from the sudden explosion.
The light fades faster than it appeared, yet it feels like a millennium has passed. The reverbing echo of the firework crackles across the sky, thundering in his ears so loud that he can feel it pounding in his chest.
(Or is that his heart? He can’t tell. He feels dizzy.)
Darkness envelops your bodies again, save for the dim glow of distant lanterns. Every part of you is seared into his memory, a floating image when he blinks.
The frog leaps from your hands back into the water, leaving nothing but ripples behind.
You stay there with your hands outstretched, looking lonely under the dark sky. Another one goes off above your heads, signalling the start of the display.
“There you are, Rin!” Bachira and Isagi come rushing over from the path, excited smiles and mirth bubbling in their laughs as they approach. “We thought you went home without us already!”
Rin slowly blinks out of his reverie. For a second, he glances in your direction again just to catch your eyes. 
“I almost did,” he grumbles, forcing himself not to stare.
“Fireworks are starting!” Isagi yanks Rin to his feet and begins dragging him away before he can even protest.
Without turning around, he can feel the weight of your eyes in the back of his head. There’s an unfamiliar ache in his chest, and the name etched down his pinky burns infinitely hot.
Later at home, he stares at the spot where Sae used to sit back when he still came to Japan for anything other than to take a new passport photo.
“My soulmate’s name showed up,” he had mumbled that night to break the tense silence. It was strange that he still felt like he owed his brother that much—to make his visit as normal as possible despite having his heart carved open.
Sae only looked at him blankly, spoon halting just above his bowl. He was eerily still, quietly deciding how to react. Then,
“Good for you,” he said. And nothing more.
Rin squeezes his eyes shut and he feels warmth rolling down his cheeks. He quickly wipes the tears away, pretending as if they never existed.
He spends the rest of the night trying to forget your face.
(And the next year trying to recreate it in his dreams.)
─── ・ 。゚☆: *.☽ .* :☆゚. ───
2019
Rin makes it another 275 days before he finally remembers every piece of the puzzle that is your existence.
He saw you in his sleep. The back of your head, anyway.
You were sitting in his favourite café, at the table he claimed for himself right by the window. You ordered a coffee but let it sit for so long that the ice melted. Then, you wiped up the condensation rolling down the frosty glass with your finger.
Rin watched you from afar, observing you the way he wished he did last summer.
Maybe then he could have dived deep into the recesses of his brain to remember why exactly you struck him so. But there he was, stuck watching the back of your head as you gazed out the window.
Tap. Tap. Tap.
Your fingers drummed mindlessly against the wooden table, reciting a rhythm just slightly louder than the pounding of his own heart. 
“Can you leave me alone?” He finally called out, hoping it would stop your incessant beating.
Tap. Tap. Tap.
“You’re annoying me,” he hissed. Annoying for disturbing his peace and quiet. Annoying for plaguing his dreams even after all these days.
Tap. Tap. Tap.
“Seriously,” he grunted, standing up from his seat so fast that the chair scraped horribly against the wooden floor. Still, you didn’t pay him any mind, instead more interested in the faceless people walking by. “Knock it off!”
Tap.
Tap.
Tap.
He bit the inside of his cheek in hesitation, the itch in the back of his mind ever present. “What’s your name?”
Silence.
You finally turned his way. Slowly. Agonizingly slow.  And Rin was right—you were still so beautiful, 275 days later.
Grinning at him big and bright, you almost seemed to collapse in on yourself with joy. Like a star about to implode, or maybe more akin to a firework.
Either way, his breath was stolen from him.
You silently mouthed your name, making sure he saw every vowel and accentuated syllable. Warmth flooded him in every way—probably brought on by the racing of his heart.
It was impossible that his soulmate was someone like this. Someone whose smile looked like it could heal even the deepest wounds.
You grabbed his attention again with a big wave of the arms, and he watched in anticipation.
“You’re—”
Rin followed your mouth as you sounded out the words without a voice.
“—smiling!”
He reached up to run his fingers along his bottom lip. And you were right, he realized, as he traced it midway up his cheek.
(When did he start smiling?)
(Why?)
─── ・ 。゚☆: *.☽ .* :☆゚. ───
Rin thinks about you just as much in the waking world as he does in his dreams.
It’s spring, though snow is still settled over the eaves of homes that he passes on the way to the grocery store. Apparently the winter cold is supposed to be especially long and bitter this year, permeating until mid-May.
He stares at his feet as they mark the virgin snow, decorating his sneakers white and making his feet cold.
Did you walk through the same snow this morning?
Then, when he’s going through the motion of smelling the bottom of pineapples at the store:
Do you like pineapple? What if you’re allergic?
(He shakes his head and puts them away. He suddenly isn’t craving it.)
His obsession with you has only intensified as the year has gone on. If you ever peered into his mind, he would receive a well-deserved slap across the face.
The soulmate mark engraved down his pinky has never bothered him so badly.
It’s like you’re constantly with him—a ghost haunting him, or perhaps more like a curse. Thinking about you takes up unnecessary space in his head. Space that should be dedicated to football, and football only.
He's about to go home so he can make a list outlining the ways he can forget about you.
(Ironic, he knows, but in all honesty he already exhausted all of his options from his first list.)
But then he comes to a stop outside of his favourite café. It looks the same, even has the same advertisements plastered in the window as the last time he was here.
He hesitates at the door, but when he walks in it smells the same. It's decorated the same. Not a single table is out of place.
He walks up to his regular spot, runs his fingers along the wood where he remembers you tapping in his dream.
There's no sign of your existence here.
Rin shakes his head in annoyance, cursing himself out in his head because he was stupid enough to think he would run into you here.
Then disappointment floods his body, like a dam had been released in his chest and it's flowing unstoppably to every piece of him.
(Wait, why is he disappointed? He really needs to take a nap.)
He runs his hand through his hair as a nervous reflex, simultaneously relieved and irritated that you're nowhere to be seen.
It takes him a minute to recollect himself, to realize that he probably looks like a crazy person just standing beside an empty table like a lost child who doesn't know where to go, and decides to just go home.
He pulls into the line to get a drink for his walk home when—
"Thanks!"
His heart drops.
You waltz out of the back, tying your apron around your waist as you exchange spots in the break room with one of your coworkers.
Rin is about to die, seriously. You must be new here, since he's been to this café more times than he can count and he's never seen you before. Or was it that he was specifically looking out for you this time?
Whatever the reason, he's dumbfounded.
“Hey,” your acknowledgment makes him freeze in his spot. “Frog guy?”
He looks at you stupidly, rubbing his eyes like a cartoon character as if he’s imagining you standing right in front of him.
His gaze drifts down to your name tag, fresh and newly printed with white marker. Signed at the end is a little flower, petals swirled into tiny hearts.
Your existence before him is undeniable.
"Um. Yeah," he sputters in disbelief.
"I..." You clear your throat, looking as bewildered as he feels. "I didn't think I'd see you again."
'You're my soulmate. Of course we'd run into each other,' he thinks to himself. Out loud, though:
"Yeah. Me neither."
The person behind him in line coughs quietly, impatiently tapping their foot. Rin takes the hint and quietly tells you what he wants. You lean in across the counter to hear him better, and his face grows warm.
Once you fill in the boxes on the cup, you place it down and move it to the side for someone to fill. It catches his eye immediately.
Itoshi Rin is scribbled neatly down the side of his cup.
“How did you...?”
You awkwardly shift in your spot, evidently embarrassed as you fiddle with the strings of your apron. Then, with your own hands.
“W-Well…”
His eyes dare to drop down to where your thumb is nervously slathering up and down the name on your pinky.
“Oh.”
"Sorry, I just figured—"
"It's fine," he interrupts. Your mouth snaps shut.
Tense silence stretches thin in the air, ready to shatter at any moment. But for some reason, he feels as though he's choking on nothing.
You fumble over the emptiness, quickly snatching up the cup to make his drink yourself after deciding it's too awkward to just stand there.
He watches you in a daze, half shaken and half in awe. Never in a million years would he have thought a dream would lead him back to you.
When you turn back around with a full cup, you look equally stunned. 
“Itoshi—”
“Rin. It’s just Rin.”
You look at him in surprise, lashes fluttering rapidly as you let it sink in.
It's not your fault. You don't know that it's a sore spot that he just so happens to share the same last name with the person he despises most in the world.
It's not your fault that he has a quick temper and his voice raises slightly, enough to make you flinch back just a tiny bit.
And it's definitely not your fault that it stings so much—that he had expected you to speak to him as if you'd already known him for a lifetime and not as if you were just two strangers looking at each other from across a bar counter.
“O-Okay," you take a deep breath, cheeks puffed out and expression unreadable.
You slide the cup across the counter and he catches it in his hand.
He debates whether or not he should say more, like apologize for snapping at you. But then someone calls you by your name, and the way it rolls so beautifully off their tongue catches him off guard.
"Sorry. See you, Rin," you smile sweetly. Maybe a little awkwardly, a small step toward the one he dreamed about. And his heart is set in motion.
Rin decides that today won't be the day.
Another day, he'll be brave enough to crack a joke so dry that you try and scrub his name off your skin. And another day, he will ask for your number because, yeah, you might be the most alluring person he's ever met.
As he turns to take his leave after just staring at the spot you were standing in for a solid few seconds, he can hear some of the other baristas clamouring for you.
He doesn't want to look. Really, honestly, he doesn't. 
But he does anyway.
It's just a quick glance over his shoulder—nothing more than a fleeting moment as he takes the chance to look at you one more time.
Those two seconds is all it takes for him to realize just how much trouble he's in.
You're laughing big and toothy, waving your hand in front of your face dismissively as your coworkers poke fun at how flustered you are. Then your hands are clasped over your stomach and you've doubled down a little in your awkward fit.
His heart has never beat so loud in his own ears.
─── ・ 。゚☆: *.☽ .* :☆゚. ───
Itoshi Rin used to smile just for the sake of smiling, once upon a time.
He had aunties who would pinch him by the cheek and fawn over him, cooing about how he looked just like his mother. How his face would cherub and the apples of his cheeks were bright red. Even when he grew out of his baby face, people would tell him how wonderful his smile was.
Sae rarely ever smiled, so it was something exclusive. He never felt like he was standing in his shadow. It was special—the kind of praise only one Itoshi would know.
Rin has forgotten how to smile like that.
He smiles to be polite to his family, if ever. Even then, it's not like he owes them that much. At some point, it became too much effort. And he had no reason to do it.
It was always a tiny thought bothering him in the back of his mind:
I'll never meet my soulmate if I'm always scowling like this.
He thought that was what he wanted, anyway. He wouldn't need to worry about running into his soulmate if no one ever looked his way. If everyone feared him enough not to spare him a second glance.
He doubts everything he ever thought as he sits on the edge of his bed staring at his desk.
It's lit up by a single lamp, shining down on his empty coffee cup like a spotlight opened up by the heavens themselves.
Your phone number is written just below his name.
Rin had almost tossed it into the trash without a second thought earlier in the day. He would have, if it weren't for the loose dog that blitzed by him and made him drop it.
Fate just loves to mess with him.
He picked it up and his thumb had stopped over the number. It was written so small, as if you had wanted him to miss it. Or perhaps you wanted to test destiny yourself—to see if the planets would align and he would discover your seven digits there for him to find.
And now he's home. He's been home, just looking. Contemplating. Stressing.
He migrates from the edge of the bed and settles into his desk chair. Then he gets up, moves back to the bed, and flops down. An endless cycle, back and forth, pushing and pulling.
Rin plops down onto his desk seat and sighs in frustration, ruffling his hair around before his forehead slams into the table.
Every part of his mind screams at him to stop. To toss the cup away and forget today ever happened. His head raises from his arms and he stares at the set of numbers illuminated on the paper, taunting him. 
Finally, he exhales through his nose, sitting up straight and reaching for the cup to toss. His fingers delicately brush along your phone number.
“So dumb…” He huffs, eventually finding his phone instead and opening his contacts.
It’s nearly midnight. He tries to imagine your face as you wait by your phone for a message from him, that stupidly hopeful glimmer in your eyes, and he feels sick to his stomach as he sends it.
Rin: hey. it’s rin.
He throws his phone down on the desk again, screen down so he can’t cringe at himself. A few minutes pass in complete silence as he sulks.
He considers that you may have gone to bed already, or you were offended by the fact that he ignored your offer to connect all day and instantly blocked him. Maybe you thought he never saw your number at all.
Then his phone buzzes. His body moves on autopilot, snatching it up faster than he can realize what he’s doing. He’s halfway through the embarrassing thought that he just immediately read your message after you sent it as your text sinks in.
Unknown: hi! it’s great to hear from you ヾ(〃^∇^)ノ
Unknown: i was starting to think you were never gonna text lol
Rin: i wasn’t
He chews his lip for a moment before quickly following up:
Rin: but i changed my mind. just cause.
Unknown: hahaha got it got it. ‘just cause’ (˘◡˘)
Unknown: rin
Unknown: wait nvm
Unknown: whatever
Unknown: rin
Rin: what
Unknown: let’s get coffee ^ ^
He stares at the screen in disbelief, watching the typing bubble pop up and disappear again and again. He can imagine again what kind of smile you must have on your face right now, or maybe you look flustered, or maybe this all means nothing to you at all and this is your way of being polite.
Regardless of the reason, he eventually types out his response.
Rin: ok
Christ, he’s so tepid.
─── ・ 。゚☆: *.☽ .* :☆゚. ───
2020
He comes to memorize every part of you, like how the sun kisses the horizon and the moon knows the tides.
Intimately, almost—if he didn’t overthink the way your touch lingered on him he could easily ignore the way it made his heart pound in his ears.
Rin learns the feeling of your fingers against his skin as you compress an ice pack to his knee. He knows your laugh—can pick apart sarcasm from genuine cheer unlike most other people he encounters. He’s never been good at reading people yet for some reason you’ve become an open book for him. 
It’s not fair that you’ve ensnared him this way, that he can’t seem to run from you (because his favourite coffee is from your café and he can’t be bothered to find a new place). That he finds himself instinctively reaching over to his phone when he can’t sleep (he has to make sure his alarms are on, might as well text you goodnight while he’s at it). And you’ve become annoyingly comfortable (he doesn’t have an excuse for this one—your lap is just conveniently a very nice place to rest his head).
He must be an open book, too.
At some point he probably stopped trying to hide his growing feelings for you, though you either didn’t notice his sudden shift or you didn’t care.
Vulnerability has never been a part of Rin, even before Itoshi Sae ruined his life.
He despises how you so easily pry him apart, skinning him alive with your hand lathering down his chest as you laugh. 
Still, he’s grown accustomed to your fingers stringing through his hair, to the way your head tilts when he explains football plays to you, to the obvious way you fluster when he attempts (poorly) at flirting with you.
He’s gotten especially fond of the way you meet him at the end of his practices with such sweet, wandering hands—pushing the hair stuck to his forehead from sweat away from his eyes; using a towel to wipe up his neck; the squeeze you give his palms as you examine them to see if there are any new cuts and bruises.
Usually, he’s the epitome of confidence in his plays. Today, however, his cheeks burn as you approach him with the same honeyed smile.
“My shots were shoddy,” he admits before you can even get a word out. You only raise a brow, hands faltering in front of you. “That was lame.”
“I think you’re good.”
“Good,” he frowns. “But not great?”
“The greatest,” you quickly correct yourself, smiling at his cravings for praise. You’re armed with a fresh towel like you always are, reaching up to clean his face as if it’s the only thing you were born to do.
He relishes in your gentle touch, peering at you through his lashes while you prattle on about how amazing he was even though he missed half of his shots.
You were so blindly supportive, it sickens him. 
Not because he felt you were being disingenuous, but because he’s not deserving of your praise. 
For the first time in a long time, it feels as though his soul is disconnected from his body. He used to walk the earth this way—uninterested in his surroundings and obsessed with only one thing.
Itoshi Sae. Itoshi Sae. Itoshi Sae.
Suddenly, he’s thirteen again and gasping for air; screaming into his pillow and trashing their shared awards until his mother comes rushing in to stop him. He’s alone in a field, abandoned and crushed.
It’s not like he’d never lost before, even in front of you. Loss was just a part of football as much as he hated it.
But your praise only makes his stomach turn, because he knows you mean it.
You truly do believe he’s the best, when really he’s been futile in his attempts to catch up with the big brother he admired so much as a kid.
“Stop,” he gently interrupts.
Rin tries to use his hair to hide the wetness of his eyes, with little success. You can see right through him, unfortunately. It’s a talent he wishes you didn’t have.
“Rin?” You say softly, reaching up to brush the hair out of the way. He doesn’t try and back up or swat your hand away, instead letting you see his miserable expression. You sigh quietly, looking more exasperated than surprised.
“Sorry,” he mutters halfheartedly.
You shake your head. “You have nothing to apologize for.”
Shame boils in his stomach at your reassurance. There is something to apologize for. Here you are, supporting him with all your heart, and all he can think about is his stupid brother. How he’ll never catch up. How he’ll never be good enough.
Doesn’t your kindness warrant his attention at the very least?
“Come on,” you tug at his hand. “Let’s get you a pick-me-up.”
Rin abides silently, body following yours off the field and onto the streets though his mind has floated off elsewhere.
He tries to count how many steps you take in between the field and the destination, but loses count somewhere around three hundred. Then he moves on to counting the hairs on the back of your head. He loses count at one hundred. Eventually, he gives up and opts for staring at your conjoined hands while he lags behind.
When you come to a halt, he nearly bumps into your back.
The ringing in his ears stops as he blinks at his surroundings. Waves crash against the shore of the sandbank, singing the song of the ocean. It had been so long since Rin walked down this stretch of the shore, he almost forgot what the sea looked like.
“Wait here,” you urge as you hold him by the shoulders then disappear around the corner.
He collapses at the wall separating land from sea, swinging his legs under the railings to sit comfortably as he remembers doing when he was a kid. His gym bag is abandoned behind him, cleats and all.
When you return, you shove a popsicle into his hand.
He’s confused at first, just looking absently at the packaging. It must be for a concerning amount of time, because you eventually pipe up.
“Do you need me to open it for you?”
Rin glares at you and your teasing smile. Carefully, he unpackages the treat and pops it in his mouth.
Sweetness melts over his tongue and he exhales sharply through his nose. You watch him in amusement with your own treat stuck in your mouth.
Silence engulfs you, eating Rin from the inside out until he feels ill. He holds his half-eaten popsicle in front of him, watching it melt down his hand.
You stare at him for a second before nudging him lightly with your elbow.
“I was being serious. You were really good. I can’t even imagine playing like you do.”
Rin’s stomach turns. The last thing he wants is your pity.
“You don’t have to be so nice,” he mumbles, resting his chin on the railing. “42 percent.”
“42 percent?” You echo, peering over the railing to get a better look at his face.
“The percent of shots I made today.”
“Come on,” you urge gently. “Aren’t you being too hard on yourself?”
“If I’m not hard on myself, I’ll never—” he stops, choking lightly on his spit. When you don’t interrupt, he shoves the popsicle back in his mouth. “Whatever. You wouldn't get it.”
It’s quiet again, save for the crashing of waves upon rock. Rin thinks for a moment that maybe he had gone too far, or that his little meltdown had freaked you out.
But when he finally dares to look at you again, you’re smiling.
“Maybe not,” you admit with a whisper. “But I do know this…” You reach over and cup his cheek with your free hand, thumb sweeping the expanse of his cheek soothingly. “There is no one—and I mean no one—who works harder than you do.”
He swallows thickly, subconsciously nudging his face a little further into your palm.
“You deserve to be a little kinder to yourself.”
The way his heart catches in his throat is strange. He can’t describe it. The warmth in his belly is foreign, but it’s pleasant.
For the first time in the year he’s gotten to know you, the thought crosses his mind:
I think I’m in love with you.
Rin’s mouth opens with the idea, but he forces it shut just as fast.
Fear grips his lungs and squeezes, stealing his air and forcing him to pull away from your touch.
“Okay,” he breathes in resignation.
You seem stunned by his sudden retreat, smile faltering ever so slightly. But you recover quickly, hugging yourself as you slouch over the railing.
Conversation moves on just like that. He appreciated that about you, too. He never had to dwell.
It feels nice, everything about this; to have his legs dangling over the edge of the cement, feet barely ghosting over the surface of the water; to have a popsicle melting between his teeth while he listens to you talk.
For some reason, it feels as though he’s reclaiming lost time, reliving a moment he thought he would never have again.
When he checks his popsicle stick, it tells him he’s a winner for the first time since he was thirteen.
(He finally allows himself to believe it when your knee gently knocks into his.)
─── ・ 。゚☆: *.☽ .* :☆゚. ───
2021
“Frog cotton candy?”
“Frog shaped cotton candy,” Rin corrects, peering around the giant fluff of candy to look at you quizzically.
“Yeah,” you giggle. “But why?”
He grumbles quietly, cheeks a soft shade of pink as he shoves the treat into your hands.
“I thought you’d like it. Nevermind,” he deadpans, turning around to toss it into the garbage.
Your laugh crescendos and he feels his heart squeeze with affection. When your hand stops him by the forearm, he thinks he might explode.
“It’s cute.”
You pick apart the floss ruthlessly with your fingers, and he watches almost in a trance—hypnotized by just your existence.
(When you finally pop the sugar into your mouth, he imagines it melting on his own tongue. The thought makes him unbearably warm and he forces it away.)
His fascination with you doesn't end there.
There's a certain charm to you that he can't understand—something that draws him in, tantalizing but terrifying at the same time.
He can't help the way he watches in a daze, the way you've ensnared all his attention and taken up the space in his mind. 
Rin has never been good at being kind, but here he is.
Here he is, bringing you cotton candy because he thought it was stupid but cute.
Here he is, rolling up the sleeves of your yukata with a gentle scolding when you rush over to catch goldfish.
And here he is, letting you cling to his arm as if he's the only thing keeping you tethered to the earth.
He really, really hates it—how mushy you make his brain feel.
He's halfway through re-rolling your sleeves with a half-hearted scowl on his face when you stop him, hand pressed to his forearm.
“Listen, Rin.”
“Hm?” He leans down so that he can peer at your face hidden behind your almost nonexistent candy floss.
“I have to show you something.”
Rin stops dead in his tracks, raising a brow as he fully turns toward you. “What is it?”
“Can you close your eyes for me?”
His heart does a somersault in his chest. “You’re not doing anything weird, are you?”
“Who do you think I am?” You sputter.
He lets out a long sigh before complying, squeezing his eyes shut. After a long silence, he considers peeking a little bit.
That is, until he feels your breath gently fanning over his parted lips.
Nearly leaping back, he wills himself to stay grounded and slowly slides his hands up your arms until he gets to your shoulders. As he imagined, your body is impossibly close to his.
It takes every bit of concentration he has not to waver. If he really tries, he can focus on how your breath smells sweet of candy. How your hair blows softly with the summer breeze, tickling his cheeks. How you smell. How you breathe.
(Fuck. Fuck, fuck, fuck. His heart is about to beat out of his chest. Is that okay?)
You tense up in his hold and suddenly you’re retreating from him, swiftly pulling out of his arms. Just as he’s about to ask you what happened, there’s a piece of candy shoved into his mouth.
“You wanted to try it, didn’t you?” You ask rather breathlessly. He opens his eyes, looking at you curiously.
Rin has never seen this expression on you before, lips pulled tight in embarrassment and pupils blown. You look more like a wild animal caught in a cage than someone who just made a move on him.
He gingerly takes the empty paper cone from your hands and folds it up, no longer able to meet your gaze lest he explode on the spot.
“Yeah,” he says softly, shuffling over to dump it into a bin. “Thanks.”
When he turns around to look at you again, his breath gets caught in his throat.
Why are you laughing?
You giggle into your palm, hiding your gleeful smile from him as you double over slightly.
“Your face is all red!” You holler.
He grunts in embarrassment, using the back of his hand to hide his own face. “Shut the hell up,” he spits.
“It’s almost like you wanted me to kiss you!”
“Oh my god, please drop it.”
“No way! I’ve never seen you look like that before!”
(‘Speak for yourself,’ he thinks.)
“So what if I did?”
Your laughter halts as if it was swallowed into the pits of your stomach. Slowly unraveling to stand up straight, he sees another expression he’s never been able to imagine on you, but he can’t quite place it.
“Did what?” You murmur.
“Want you to kiss me.”
Your face is warm under the glow of lanterns, eyes shimmering with the overhead lights. Rin watches your mouth open and close repeatedly as you try and formulate some sort of response.
A firework explodes atop of you, and he wonders if it just saved you.
You seem jarred for only a moment more until you jolt, grabbing him roughly by the arm and giving him a pull.
“I just remembered,” you gasp. “I actually did have something to show you!”
Rin doesn’t get a word in before you’re dragging him along by the arm. With each boom of an explosion, your footsteps pick up, building into a full blown sprint out of the festival grounds and through the thicket.
You tug him along, guiding him by the hand through the winding path of trees and logs. His stamina is better than yours but you’re pushing up the hill despite your huffing and puffing—it makes him laugh with you.
When you break free of the forest, Rin’s eyes focus on a field of plush grass and buttercups.
You let go of his hand, flinging yourself forward and spinning on your heel to exaggerate how wide the opening is with your arms.
“Isn’t it great?” You shout over the fireworks. “Away from the crowd!”
He rushes up to you so that you can stop yelling, invading your personal space until you can hear him just at his normal volume.
“It’s perfect,” he tells you earnestly.
You grin up at him widely before pulling him along to the edge of the clearing. You plop down together, eyes glued to the sky as the fireworks rage on.
Rin only lasts a few seconds before his eyes drift to the side, trying to drink in your expression. It’s become a habit of his to try and imprint your very existence into his brain.
Against his better judgment, his hand creeps toward yours until your fingers are overlapped.
Thankfully, you don’t use the opportunity to tease him about it, instead shifting a little closer until you’re practically burrowed into his side. If it were anyone else, he would have shoved them away.
(When did he stop trying to push you away?)
When your pinkies slowly close together, he feels as if he can’t breathe properly.
Mark-to-mark, it’s as though he is full of all the love he’s ever felt for you from every life—past or future. Like there’s a love that exists within him that transcends lifetimes, if it were even possible.
If he were to peer into another dimension, would you still be together like this? Would you be plucking buttercups and mindlessly twirling them between your fingers? Would he be itching to envelop you in his arms just to devour you?
His thoughts cease when you take a deep breath.
“I used to come here alone,” you admit.
“No one took you?” He asks. Your gaze is piercing the night sky, never leaving the show. He can see the bloom of colours in them.
“Not since I was little, but I always loved it here.”
The question burns hot in Rin’s mind: even if it was a little lonely sometimes?
He remembers back to the night that he first saw you, with your hands dipping into the murky waters of a frog pond and an air of desolation surrounding you. Then he remembers how he couldn’t sleep that night. Not with the image of you crouching there alone burned into his memory.
“Did you know this festival is a celebration of love?” He suddenly asks.
Oh what the fuck? Oh, god. Why did he say that?
That was so lukewarm of him. So stupid. So pointless and lame.
He just wanted something to say to you, something that would make him stop thinking about how you might have been alone for all that time before you knew him.
The silence burns between you, tense and awkward until he starts stuttering out something else to fill the void. But then you look at him, slow and intrigued and so damn amused that he can feel heat rising to the tips of his ears.
“I had no idea.”
There’s a longing in your expression that tells a different story. A twitch of your pinky against his that gives away your blatant lie.
And, damnit. Here he is again, four years later under the same stars. Under the same fireworks. Only this time, he’s able to see your face even closer as it lights up a million different colours—teal like his eyes; rose like his cheeks; golden like the heart he’s tried so hard to protect.
Four years later and he still thinks you’re the most beautiful person he’s ever seen: pinkies interlocked, sheepish smile on your face, an undeniable shake in your voice that means you have more that you’re too nervous to say.
For a moment he considers finally letting go of all the things keeping him bolted and chained where he stands, swallowing the key to the cage surrounding his fragile, thumping heart. And for that fleeting second, he feels as though he’s the bravest man alive—that nothing could stop him even if you were to turn away and snub him out with the heel of your foot.
But how could he open his mouth and tell you anything when all he feels is the sick twisting of his stomach, the daunting glare of the older brother he adored so much, and the coldness of snow soaking his clothes as he sits in a field and cries?
There’s a burning, raging fire within him. Something primal and afraid and unchanging despite how much he wants to fall into your arms the way your shared etchings say he should.
It screams at him: run away. Run. Run. Run. This will only end in hurt.
He’s too fucked up. Too messed in the head and too quick to anger because he’s actually soft at heart, easy to betray—
“Rin.”
Your hand swiftly captures his face and he’s dragged unceremoniously out of his reverie.
Of course you would be able to pick out his turmoil by expression alone. By the droop of his lips into a frown—not the annoyed one he would flash his teammates, or the grimace he would scare children away with. The kind that’s sad and slow and timid, like an animal caught in a net.
“I’m really happy that we’re friends.”
“Friends?” He breathes, half confused and half incredulous.
Deep down he knows that it’s an attempt to comfort him without being too sappy. Maybe you can sense it somewhere in your soul that he would probably break down and sob if you were to make him feel any more vulnerable than he already is with you. It’s an effort to take away whatever guilt he feels and give him a chance to relax.
However, he can see a different tale in your eyes.
Loneliness as empty as the sky on a cloudy night. A yearning for more, for someone, for him, to fill the gap. I’m tired of waiting. That’s all he can read beneath the sea of colour exploding in your irises.
It only makes him feel worse, but he allows himself to be lied to anyway if only to feel the warmth of your skin against his just a bit longer.
“Yeah.”
Your pinky twitches again. He can feel the brush of your name against his, the grate of your matching soul marks. Your eyes tear away from his and are glued to the infinite sky above once more. To the stars you know are there but are covered by smoke and fire.
Rin only stares at you. He can’t focus on the explosions of fireworks anymore, not when you’re right in front of him looking so perfect. His summer treasure.
“Yeah?”
He knows he sounds dumb, repeating everything like an oaf who can’t fathom what’s being said. You giggle and it floors him.
“Just being able to stand here with you—” you glance at him again, only for a second. He can see the exhaustion in that moment, but he’s too selfish to pry. “—I think I’m the luckiest person alive.”
“Even if…” He swallows harshly. It feels like shrapnel cutting down his throat. “Even if I can’t be more?”
“Even so.”
There’s a pause and you open your mouth to say more, maybe to give him an ultimatum or to elaborate on your feelings, but then you’re interrupted by the end of the display.
Counteless fireworks explode above you in the finale. Rin can hear the awestruck gasps of families down the hill, the distant cries of children and the faint shutter of cameras filling the air.
He realizes then: he’s been smiling. His cheeks hurt from how big it’s gotten. And you’re smiling at him, too.
(The fireworks rage on, but in the end, all he can look at is you.)
─── ・ 。゚☆: *.☽ .* :☆゚. ───
2022
Falling in love with Itoshi Rin was one of the most foolish, most wonderful things that could have happened to you.
He was an enigma in and of itself, a mystery of a soulmate who was able to love you wholeheartedly and push you away at the same time.
There were nights where you would stay up wondering why he was your soulmate when it seemed like all he wanted to be was alone. Other times, you fell asleep smiling to yourself knowing that somewhere deep down you both belonged to each other. 
The universe chose you. The universe chose him. It was indisputable, yet you still had doubts.
Tonight is one of those “foolish” nights. It seems as though you have been stood up.
For three hours you’ve waited in the same spot at the gates of the festival, watching families and couples pass by but never the one person you’d wait until the end of the world for. The sun has long since gone to sleep over the horizon and the streets are fully lit up with lanterns for the festivities.
6 pm. That was the time Rin promised he would meet you. In the past, he was always late but at least had the decency to tell you beforehand that you could go ahead without him. Only when you arrived and sat down to wait for him had he finally messaged you.
Rin: gonna be late. see you at 7.
7 pm. That was the rescheduled time. It was when you expected to see him walking up to you in his yukata that you begged him to wear this year, matching adoringly with yours. And at 7 pm you would tell him. You would tell him everything.
For months prior you had practiced almost pathetically so, recited and perfected your speech while staring at your reflection in a mirror. You’d written him a letter, too.
7 pm. You were finally going to thank Rin for everything. For accompanying you to such a silly festival even though you know he loathes it. For meeting you under the stars and the moon and the fireworks time and time again. For bringing life back into a childhood memory that you had long since hated.
7 pm. You were going to tell him thank you. You were going to tell him you loved him, just as it had been written in the stars many years before you were born.
It’s 9 pm, nearing 10 and the start of the fireworks show. He missed the entire night without explanation.
At 9:58 pm, just as you’re about to give up all hope, you finally come face to face with teal eyes and a stupidly handsome face sheen with sweat. It shouldn’t hurt so much, the way he looks at you so dismissively as if he hadn’t blown you off all night. 
“Sorry,” he mutters disingenuously, attempting to brush past you without a second thought. “Let’s go, I’m thirsty.”
He has his gym bag slung over his shoulder and a windbreaker over his uniform. No sign of the yukata you had picked out for him to wear.
You don’t follow him, staring at his back in disbelief. When he realizes you aren’t trailing behind, he turns on his heel and raises a brow in question. “Are you coming?”
“I was waiting for you all night,” you tell him coldly. I was waiting for you all this time and you never showed up. 
He swallows thickly, suddenly overcome by guilt because of your downcast expression. “I know. I lost track of time.”
“Lost track of time?” You scoff incredulously. Your mouth opens as if you have more to say, but you’re interrupted by a bang.
Rin’s eyes flutter closed. He can’t listen to this. He can’t watch.
He knows this all too well. He knew it all along.
The universe was wrong. Itoshi Rin was never cut out to be someone’s soulmate.
“We’re missing it…”
Your back is turned to him but all he can imagine is the terrible expression you must be making right now, twisted in sadness and anger. The worse image is a completely blank face—unfeeling and cold. He doesn’t even want to think about it.
Booms echo in the distance yet all he can focus on is the faint hum in his ears, the horrible churning in his stomach and the fog of guilt clouding his head.
“I’m sorry,” he says so quietly that he’s sure you can’t even hear him under the deep, bellowing explosions over the horizon.
He doesn’t remember the last time he apologized for anything like this. Being cold and aloof was just in his nature. Never before had he felt like it was necessary to be remorseful for the way he is—for how he was made to be.
The slight tremble of your shoulders and the way you use the back of your sleeves to wipe tears from your eyes force the words out of him before he can stop it. He tells you again,
“I’m sorry.”
He weakly attempts to grab you by the arms, holding you from behind so he can make you look at him. You jerk away fast as lightning, knocking him away as you swivel around to glare.
“Why didn’t you come?” You demand. There’s anger shaking in your voice. Rin doesn’t know how to respond to it, not when you’ve always been so understanding and kind. Perhaps he was too cruel for you if he was going to break you this way.
“I got caught up with—”
“With football, right?” You laugh bitterly, taking a generous step back. Hurt pours from every inch of your expression and all it does is make his heart ache.
“Stop,” he suddenly snaps. You flinch at his tone and shrink back, only adding to his guilt. He always had the worst temper. “Don’t be like this. You know it was important,” he explains, gentler this time. Softer, trying to coax you back over.
There’s a beat of complete silence, save for the hollowed explosions in the distance. Rin blinks at you a couple times before his frayed nerves finally calm again. And then he realizes something terrible.
The look in your eyes, the deflation of your shoulders—this is what utter defeat looks like. For a moment deja vu rushes through his blood, bringing him back to a time when he too felt as miserable as you. 
Every year he’s had the opportunity to read your expression: I’m tired of waiting. But he always foolishly assumed you would still wait around for him forever. That your patience would be as infinite as the stars in the sky. That just because he had the privilege of having his name scrawled down your pinky, he would be guaranteed to have you.
It was disgustingly selfish.
Just as he opens his mouth to apologize again, you storm up to him and shove the piece of paper roughly into his chest. With the closed gap, he can clearly see the tears streaming down your face illuminated by warm lanterns.
“Just forget it.”
“Wait—” He catches your wrist as you push past him, stopping you in your tracks again despite your struggle to get away. “Come on, I said I’m sorry!”
“Rin,” you sniffle, voice breaking with just the syllable of his name. It makes him falter. “I’m tired.”
“But—”
“You can’t even spare me one night? Just this one night in the entire year?” You breathe, no longer trying to dance around the subject. “What is it with you? What are you so afraid of?”
Being put in the spotlight never bothered Rin before. It was easy enough to ignore when all his life he was watched carefully. But it’s different with you; you’re the only one looking at him in this moment yet it feels like the weight of a million pairs of eyes at once.
An answer comes quickly to his mind, almost natural. He knows exactly what’s wrong with him.
He’s afraid of being left behind again. Of being hurt. Rin is terrified of love and being loved because he’s too pathetically fragile.
The pieces of his heart are clumsily glued together and he’s scared that even the smallest turbulence would send it shattering into a billion shards again. He doesn’t know how to put himself back together properly anymore. 
Itoshi Sae permanently fucked him up.
Though they were on slightly better terms now, the scars would always haunt him. The simple solution is to shut everyone else out, to protect the weak heart he harbours.
If he told you that, would you understand? Or would you try and claw his name off your skin?
You take his silence as an answer and pry away from him again, holding yourself protectively—guarding yourself from the catastrophe that follows Rin wherever he goes.
“Goodbye, Rin.”
He doesn’t watch you go. 
The nearest bench becomes his temporary home. He could do hundreds of plays in a football game and never tire, but for some reason your disdain has sucked every ounce of energy from his body.
It doesn’t register that he’s still holding the paper you forced into his hands until it crinkles in his hold. He slowly unfolds it revealing ink sloppily smeared across the page.
And then he reads it. Again. And again. And again, until it’s shaking in his hold. Until the dull ache in his heart feels like the pierce of a knife. 
Rin doesn’t know what to do anymore. He’s always had one clear goal for his entire life, but now everything is all muddled. Messy, like everything else he touches.
He turns everything into a disaster.
Does he chase after you and risk having his fragile heart broken all over again? Does he risk being left behind or does he close off the gate for that option entirely? He could sit in his cowardice and never change, preserving his heart forever in this moment of time; a polaroid in the slideshow of his mortality.
There’s a familiarity to this all. Perhaps he had lived through this decision a million lives before this. Maybe he would live through it again an infinite amount of times, so long as it was your name etched into his skin.
Was he as messed up in this life as he was in every other?
If he had ruined everything in this life, if he made the wrong choice and drove you away in hatred until you drew your last breath, then maybe he could make it all up to you in the next one.
Or, if that were the case, maybe he was born into this world only to love you—to make up for the millenia where he ran away.
Rin’s legs have never moved so fast. Not in football. Not even from his brother. If you were the light at the end of the tunnel then he would keep chasing you forever, he thinks. Until his wounded heart gave out.
Of all the stupid decisions he’s made in his life, have any of them amounted to anything? He’s going to give it one last try. One more chance to prove to himself that not everything he touches burns to ashes.
“Wait!”
You visibly startle, eyes wide as you turn to see Rin dashing toward you. He doesn’t give you even a moment to ask questions, to wonder why he’s coming back to break your heart again. 
You’re engulfed in a hug faster than you can blink, stumbling back from the force of his body colliding with yours until your sandals get kicked off your feet.
“Rin?” You murmur his name in disbelief, breathless even though you weren’t the one sprinting down the road.
“Just give me one more chance,” he stammers out. You can feel the rapid rise and fall of his shoulders as he holds you and fights for air simultaneously. Your hands twitch at your sides but you remain lifeless in his arms.
He tries again: “Let me prove it to you. Let me prove that it wasn’t some freak accident that led me to you. That my name on your skin is meant to be there.”
“Don’t do this,” you tell him quietly, lips brushing against his ear as you speak. “I don’t want to be loved and feared at the same time.”
“But…” Rin squeezes your body against his, almost desperately. Clinging to what he has ruined. “For once in my life, I want something more.”
I don’t want to be alone anymore.
You hesitantly shift, hands slowly trailing up his back until your body is curling against his. He can trace the outline of your body against his, like a puzzle piece that he was missing slotted perfectly in his grasp.
“I thought my soulmate would only slow me down and break me. I was wrong. I know that now.”
He slowly rocks your bodies back and forth. You pull away until your eyes meet his, red with tears. It’s the messiest he has ever seen you, but his heart refuses to be still. It aches.
Beautiful. It’s the only word he can describe you with. It didn’t matter if you were lit up under the wondrous sky, or handing him coffee in a crowded café, or sobbing in his arms. 
You would only ever be his infinitely beautiful soulmate.
It’s the only constant he would have in this life and every other, even if you were to break his heart. It would be the single greatest achievement in his time, above football, above any of his petty competitions—that your name is etched down his pinky.
It scares him. It thrills him.
With the distant roar of fireworks, he kisses you. And you allow him, hiccuping against his lips as you cry.
You stay like that for a long time, listening to the hollow shockwaves of fireworks exploding miles away. He’s the first to draw back, raking in shallow breaths. You chase him, finding solace against his lips once more but not fully indulging him with another kiss.
“Do you fear me?” You whisper into his mouth.
“More than anything,” he tells you.
“Do you love me?”
After a moment of contemplation, he answers,
“More than anything.”
You nod slowly, awkwardly pulling away from him and taking a step back. It’s your first kiss and you don’t know where you’re supposed to look anymore. Rin stops your nervous shifting with his hand swooping under your chin.
“One year. I promise.” You look at him in confusion, so he continues. “Next year, when the season and my contract are over, I’ll meet you there. At the pond.”
You seem skeptical still, with your brows knitted together and a lost haze in your eyes. He raises his pinky, the one with your name forever grafted into the skin, and offers it to you.
“I pinky promise.”
It’s so ridiculous, wearing his heart on his sleeve with something he learned about on playgrounds when he was a child. A pinky promise shouldn’t mean any more than the words he has already spoken. But for some reason, your eyes light up.
He feels nothing but relief when your pinkies lock together.
“Okay,” you breathe.
“You’ll wait for me?”
“Rin.” His name leaves you in a breathless laugh that makes his world spin. It sounds so tired yet so sweet. “I’ve been waiting all my life.”
“I’m sorry,” he says once more for good measure. You nod. A wordless acceptance.
Itoshi Rin is your soulmate. It’s not like that fact will ever change no matter the time, no matter the distance.
─── ・ 。゚☆: *.☽ .* :☆゚. ───
2023
Fate is a funny thing. Soulmates are a funny thing.
The universe threw Rin curveball after curveball, beating him down until he was nothing but a husk heavenly built for one purpose only: beat Sae. Beat Itoshi Sae.
There were times when he would lay awake at night wondering why he was given this life, why he was thrust into hardship and hurt and betrayal. How could something so perfect, something so all-knowing, be so cruel?
For as long as the name had been grafted into his skin, he resented the idea of a soulmate.
He hated the idea that only one person in the world would be his eternal weakness. That one day, one person would hold every piece of his soul in their hands. Even then, his soulmate was the other half of him—his salvation. His downfall.
They would know every inch of his skin. Every bleeding wound of his heart. Every bruise and scar along his legs from cleats and nails and gravel. Having a soulmate meant having every part of him exposed, to be judged and worshiped at the same time.
At your hands, though, he’s certain this is what he was born for—to spend the rest of his days by your side even if you were doing something as mundane as catching frogs together.
“You’re scaring them,” you hiss quietly.
Your fingers sink into the pond and Rin watches your reflections ripple as water fills your palms. Your faces contort and meld into one being. In some ways, it’s a familiar feeling—to have been intertwined with you since his very conception.
“You’re terrible at this.”
“It’s your fault!”
“Right,” he deadpans. “You haven’t caught a single one all night.”
“You were late,” you remind him with a huff, cheeks inflated. “Before you got here I was catching frogs all night. Coincidence?”
Rin makes another noise, something akin to a snort. But he doesn’t acknowledge your statement, instead reaching over to gingerly roll the sleeves of your yukata up to your elbows.
“Are you always so sloppy? Your sleeves are getting all wet.”
You glare at him from the side, delivering a deadly warning. “Are you always such a pain in the ass?”
“I get it, I get it. I said I was sorry for being late. Nii-chan really wanted to try that new ice cream place downtown.”
Your gaze drifts to him in the shimmering reflection, watching his smile soften at the mention of his big brother. It was wonderful that they were trying to patch things up.
Sae had decided to come home after all, promising Rin that they would play together again once they both took a well deserved break.
You could tell that Rin was trying his best not to make a big deal out of it, but the way he cried into your shoulder later that night said it all.
“I feel bad having you come all the way out here just to see me. Your brother is back in Japan isn’t he?”
“Yeah. And he wants to meet you.”
You nearly fall over. “What?”
“Please don’t look so starstruck about that. I feel sick.”
Laughing, you recentre yourself, sitting back on your heels with your hands on your knees. “Sorry, sorry! It’s not that…”
Rin raises a brow. “We don’t have to if you don’t want to.”
“It’s just—” you fumble, cheeks burning hot at the idea of being introduced to Rin’s family after all these years. Formally, as his partner. His soulmate. The name they had all known since he was thirteen. “What would I even say to him?”
He looks at you in bewilderment. Then, he snickers, only laughing harder when you smack his arm.
“Don’t worry about that,” he assures, reaching out to pat the top of your head. “Just be yourself. My family will love you.”
“Thank you,” you whisper, studying your reflections in the water with a soft smile. You’re staring right back at yourself, but Rin is only looking at you.
“I haven’t done anything special.”
“You lit up my world,” you laugh, turning back up to look at him properly. You make a mini explosion with your hands. “Boom! Like that. A firework.”
“You’re too corny,” he murmurs in embarrassment, turning his head away to hide his flushed face. “Can’t you explain it like a normal person?”
“No can do,” you tell him, voice gentler this time. After a pause, you shuffle your sandals around in the mud and take a deep breath. “If you want me to be totally serious…”
You lunge over and tackle him into your arms. He nearly loses his balance holding the both of you upright, stumbling back on his heels before he catches your waist. You don’t seem to share the sentiment of staying pristine, knees digging into the dirt as you squeeze him tighter.
Rin feels his heart catch in his throat the same way you’ve made it for the last six years.
“Thank you. For letting me love you. For being my soulmate.”
His hand is automatically in your hair, scratching your scalp as he smiles into your shoulder.
“I’m sure I gave you nothing but a hard time,” he grumbles.
“But I still love you.”
“Even though you had to wait?”
“Even so.”
“And that I’m a pain in the ass?”
“Even then, I do.”
Rin burrows himself into your neck, hiding his face again. It does a poor job at masking the kind of expression he’s making, though, considering how warm his skin is.
“What if I’m not good enough?”
He feels terrible—guilty that he needs to keep having this conversation with you. But you always comfort him the same way. He hopes you always will.
Drawing his head up with your muddy hands, you dirty his cheeks just to get a glimpse of him. You murmur a half-hearted sorry for making a mess.
Then you’re kissing him.
“I’ll be here to remind you how much I cherish you.”
You nip his bottom lip and he opens wider. You whisper into his mouth,
“And how happy I am that Itoshi Rin was born into this world.”
Itoshi Rin, broken. He who thought that he could never be put back together.
Itoshi Rin, vengeful. He who believed the only happiness that existed for him in this world was to surpass his brother.
Itoshi Rin, who did not believe in his soulmate while staring right at them. And Itoshi Rin, who finally allowed himself to love you wholly, completely, as it was written in the stars.
“I love you,” he says, as if just those three words could encapsulate everything he feels for you.
“Always?” You giggle. He rolls his eyes. 
“Wherever you are, and wherever you may be, I will.”
You kiss him one more time for good measure.
“That was corny.”
─── ・ 。゚☆: *.☽ .* :☆゚. ───
2024
“No peeking.”
Rin folds up his piece of paper and hangs it from the bamboo tree. You’re tugging him along before he can even properly check to see if it’s been secured.
“Come on, I don’t want to miss the fireworks!”
He wouldn’t miss them for the world. You’ve always looked the most beautiful under the brightened summer sky.
The wish he scribbled down blows softly in the breeze as both of you rush by, back to the festival where it all began.
7 July 2024. I wish I had the words to tell you how much I love you.
─── ・ 。゚☆: *.☽ .* :☆゚. ───
extra notes. hi! if you made it this far, i'd like to give you the warmest most grateful thank you ever ( ´ ω `)
so, here it is. i've been working on this since last september-ish... for some people that amount of time is not much, but genuinely, i've never devoted so much attention and time to one single fic and i hope i did this one justice. rin has always been a guilty pleasure of mine to write for. i hope this man stays far far away from me until i can stomach even looking at his name again LOL ‾́ ◡ ‾́
also i finally admitted defeat and took out all my pictures and dividers because tumblr was fighting my posts that had any. so... sorry the formatting looks like this
additional tags: @jenoutof10 @hanrinz @itoshiexx lol hi guys it made it out of the drafts i hope you like it
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flowerandblood · 4 months ago
Text
Sacrifices (Oneshot)
[ canon • Aemond x little sister • female ]
[ warnings: incest obviously, sex content, virginity loss, oral sex, smut, fluff, sexual tension, obsession ]
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[ description: Finally, after months of waiting, his beloved, younger sister becomes his wife. The task that awaits him as an older brother is not to cause her pain during the beautiful act in which they will finally become one. ]
Part 4 (the last) of the Appearances, it can be read as standalone story.
My other works: Masterlist
_____
"Don't be afraid, hāedar (little sister)."
This was easier said than done.
The day of their nuptials, although it was the fulfilment of their dreams and hopes, was also a time full of terror and humiliation for them.
Aegon made sure to speak his thoughts aloud about how his younger brother would not be able to please his sister and that it was him she should give her wedding night to.
"With one eye, he won't even know where to put it." Aegon sneered, taking a deep sip from his cup. Their mother gave him a quick, rebuking glance.
"Aegon. That is enough."
The humiliation he felt burned his loins like fire, however, what really frightened him was her pale face, her hands clenched on her beautiful green dress, the field flowers pinned into her hair.
She looked so beautiful and innocent that he was afraid to touch her, barely brushing her tiny, delicate hands as they danced.
He hated courtly courtesy, and the steps he had to take to the rhythm of the music seemed forced and clumsy, yet he was doing it for her, just for her.
Although it was their wedding day, she was sad and tired.
To his joy, with the help of his mother, he managed to dissuade his brother and his friends from participating in their intimate act. When the chamber door closed behind them, they were left alone.
He was relieved when her body clung to his: it was not a gesture of desire, but of fear and uncertainty, as if she had been waiting for hours and could not do it because it would be indecent behaviour.
Embracing her husband.
She was his wife.
"Lēkia (big brother)." She muttered, sinking into his linen white shirt, her body covered only by her nightgown.
His arms involuntarily embraced her petite figure, sinking her face into his chest, her scent, her closeness making him feel a pleasant warmth in his stomach.
"I'm here. No one's going to hurt you." He whispered, his full lips placing a loud, soft kiss on the top of her head.
Gods, how he loved her.
Her, only her.
Love was a weakness and he knew it, and she was the only person he wanted and needed to be vulnerable in front of.
"Are you afraid?" She asked involuntarily, looking up at him with her big, dark eyes that she had inherited from their mother.
His broad hand rose to her plump cheek and stroked her skin with his thumb, looking at her with his lips parted, feeling a squeeze in his heart.
What should he answer?
What if she thought he was weak, that Aegon was right?
That he wouldn't be able to please her?
"What do you mean?" He muttered, looking into the depths of her dark, shining eyes.
"Have you ever lain with a woman? Before our betrothal. You can tell me, I'll understand." She whispered in a trembling voice, and he swallowed hard, feeling the cold sweat on his back.
He didn't know if it was a good idea to tell her, but he didn't want to begin their marriage with a lie.
"I did, issa dōna rūklon (my sweet flower). Once. It was Aegon's idea, not mine. On my thirteenth Name Day." He choked out with difficulty, feeling shame and fear at the thought that she might have rejected him, found him disgusting, unworthy of her affection.
She nodded, to his surprise looking as if she felt relieved, her trembling hand found his, their fingers intertwined in a soft, tender embrace.
"You promised me that from this day to the end of your days you would be mine alone." She whispered, and he nodded, feeling his erection swell and pulse in his breeches at her words, reminding him of the vow they had made to each other in the Great Sept.
"Yes, sweet sister. I am yours and you are mine." He sighed, leaning over her, in some natural, simple reflex, letting their lips cling to each other in a soft, warm kiss.
They both purred with contentment, carefully grasping each other's cheeks in their hands, stroking the skin of their faces with their fingers, letting their wet, rough tongues lick tentatively with the quiet click of their saliva.
"– ah – mmm –" She hummed as one of his arms hugged her waist, forcing her body to slam against his, his impatient cock pushing against her belly.
"– can you feel it, hāedar? –" He exhaled, looking down between their bodies, watching the bulge under the material of his breeches pressing against her body. "– can you feel what you're doing to me? – how much I crave to feel you? –"
She looked at him with a hazy, dreamy, hot gaze from which he felt a squeeze in his lower abdomen, her glistening, puffy lips parted wide.
"– I want it, brother – make it feel good –" She whispered, and he needed no more encouragement. She squealed in surprise, throwing her arms around his shoulders as he lifted her up, holding her beneath her buttocks, walking with her towards their large marital bed now standing in his chamber.
"– easy, little one – easy –" He murmured with a smile, touched by her innocent, involuntary behaviour, in the candlelight seeing how much her cheeks had blushed with emotion.
"– will it hurt, Aemond? – mum said it would –" She muttered as he laid her down on the soft, clean bedding, apparently revealing to him at last the reason for her sadness and anxiety all day.
He sighed heavily, climbing onto the bed, reading dozens of books before their wedding just to make sure he did everything he could to spare her suffering.
"– there's a thin wall inside you that I'm going to have to break – during this moment, you'll be able to feel discomfort and sting, but when it's behind us, I swear you'll feel nothing but pleasure –" He whispered in a trembling voice, spreading her thighs in front of him, letting the material of her nightgown expose her bare thighs.
She blinked, looking at him in disbelief, surprised, apparently, by his extensive knowledge on the subject, and breathed out quietly, as if trying to relax.
"– we'll start with what's familiar to you – we need to make you wet and willing for your brother – hm? –" He murmured, cocking his head, trailing his hands from her knees to her thighs. She nodded quickly, wriggling impatiently, clearly now more excited than frightened, shivering on her skin in the places where he ran his palms.
A sweet sigh of surprise left her lips as he drew her closer to him and leaned in, sinking his face into her heat: her folds were pink and swollen, soft and tender as silk. His sister smelled of bath, of fragrant oils and herself, of her own sweat – he murmured at the thought, the tip of his tongue running over her small, swollen bud, making her fingers clench in his hair, her head thrown back.
"– lēkia –" She mewled, rolling her hips back and forth, impatient, wanting more and harder. He, however, decided to take his time and explore her womanhood, the space around her pearl, her tight slit, which he teased with slow, lazy flicks of his tongue.
He felt the taste of her moisture on his tongue and grinned under his breath as he listened to her moans, feeling her body writhing before him in convulsions, his fingers digging warningly into the plush structure of her thigh.
"– lay still –" He hissed, finally forcing his tongue between her fleshy, hot walls, licking and rubbing the small spot just above her opening, teasing her bud with his nose, all swollen from his caresses.
"– Aemond – Aemond, Aemond, Aemond –" She sobbed in front of him, chasing her peak, but he knew he couldn't let her come.
Not yet.
He stopped his treatments and raised himself up on his elbows, looking at her with satisfaction, wiping his face with his hand. Her long, dark hair was spread around her head, her lips parted wide in a heavy breath, her gaze hot and full of desire.
"– I want more – husband –" She mumbled, and he sighed and nodded, sliding the material of his breeches lower, releasing his hard, long manhood, dripping from his precum.
Husband.
"– show me your breasts, sweet wife –" He commanded, and she drew in a loud breath and quickly slid the material of her nightgown off her shoulders, revealing her bare chest to him.
Something about her appearance, about how different she was from Madam, aroused him even more – her plump breasts with their sweet, hard nipples were more girlish, more innocent, more lovely.
His.
His hand squeezed his swollen cock at the base with sure, quick jerks as he leaned in, sinking and clamping his mouth on her little nipple, beginning to suck involuntarily as if he were a baby.
He had never heard her let out a similar moan before, so helpless and loud, her hands immediately pressed his face closer to her breast as if she wanted to melt into one with him.
"– b-brother – what are you – ah –" She mewled and shuddered as he directed the thick head of his cock against her leaking, hot slit and began to slowly push.
She gasped, throwing her head back, clearly not having known a similar sensation in her entire life – he opened her with difficulty and was met with resistance, her moan of discomfort telling him that this was the moment.
He released her breast and lifted himself up on his arm higher, to her face, wanting to look into her eyes, his nose pressed against her cheek.
"– I need to push harder now – this might hurt a little – spread your thighs wider – yes, just like that – ready? –" He asked and she nodded, her eyes big with desire and terror.
He cradled her head to the hollow of his neck, slid out a little and with one sure thrust hit something deep inside her, from which she cried out loudly and squealed in pain, her fingers tightening on the material of his shirt.
Fuck, he hadn't made it.
He had to do it again, harder.
"– just one more time – one more time and it will be over –" He whispered in a trembling voice, her walls almost painfully tight against his cock, clenching in panic.
He grasped her buttocks in his hands, pulling them apart with her whine of discomfort, and with one violent thrust he finally broke deeper into her warm interior. He felt her burst into sobs, her legs quivering all over in his embrace, her fingers clenched painfully hard against his skin.
"– stop – don't move – don't move –" She mumbled pleadingly, and he froze motionless, panting heavily, feeling the sting in his heart, for some reason feeling like crying himself. His lips placed warm, tender kisses on her temple and cheek, his broad hand simply stroking her hair, wanting to reassure her.
"– I know, I'm so sorry – I know I promised it would be easier – but the worst is behind us –" He promised, and she swallowed heavily, feeling how hard his erection pulsed inside her.
"– it still hurts –" She confessed, and he nodded.
"– we'll wait until it stops – we'll just embrace and kiss until the discomfort passes – hm? –" He asked in a shaky voice, afraid that she would reject him now, tell him to stop, that she didn't want to see him, that she would never let him touch her again.
She, however, nodded and looked at him with a trusting and affectionate gaze from which his lips, swollen with desire, melted with hers into one. They kissed loudly and unashamedly, their tongues dancing with each other deep in their throats, fighting for dominance, their hands stroking their hair and bodies.
Indeed, he felt her walls stop pressing so hard against him, her breathing calmed, tears of fear stopped flowing down her face. Tentatively, he slid deeper into her, and she only sighed, combing through his hair, without however uttering a word.
"– may I? –" He asked in a quivering voice, feeling his cock about to explode with desire. She looked up at him, her lips parted sweetly, her face all red from emotion and tears.
"– yes – just – be gentle – She mumbled, and he pressed his forehead against hers, with a low groan slowly and firmly sliding all the way into her. He looked at her face, at her eyelashes glistening from her tears, at her sweet red lips, and thought he had to do this to her.
"– sister –" He exhaled and began to pound into her, shyly and shallowly at first, thinking only of how tight, warm, wet she was, that he was just taking her maidenhood and her, what was rightfully his from the day she was born.
"– brother –" She muttered, throwing her head back, clearly feeling the opposite of discomfort at the moment.
"– 'm going to accelerate now –" He whispered, gripping her hips in his hands, imposing a sharp, fast rhythm on her, slamming into her the way he'd always dreamed of doing, the loud slaps of their skin building his way to fulfilment.
She moaned loudly, throwing her legs over his back, her hands on his neck pressed him closer, wanting to unite with him, to become one as they were always meant to be. They kissed passionately and deeply, then again and again as her hips began to rock, seeking a shared rhythm with him, her sweet little cunt began to squeeze him, soaking him all over.
"– ñuhon (mine) –" He exhaled between the aggressive, sticky, slick dance of their teeth and tongues, their bodies entwined in an aggressive, close embrace like a vine.
"– aōhon (yours) – iksan aōhon, lēkia (I'm yours, big brother), oh fuck, fuck, fuck! –" She cursed far too sweetly and innocently, throwing her head back in euphoria, going before his eyes through the kind of release she had never before experienced in his presence, the great wet spot under their buttocks making him lick his lips lustfully.
"– that's right – I intend to fulfil my duty to you as a husband every day, ābrazȳrys (wife) – ah – fuck, yes –" He sighed, feeling a tightening in his stones, only to feel a wonderful, stunning relief a moment later and finally fill her with his seed, as he had always been destined to do.
"– gods –" He exhaled, falling on top of her, their hands clenched on their bodies, refusing to let go, their breaths hitched and heavy, full of fulfilment.
"– I want to see you bare, valzȳrys (husband) –" She mumbled out in shame, and he hummed, for some reason pleased with her request.
At the thought that he hadn't discouraged her from their intimacy, that she wanted it as much as he did.
As he pulled off his shirt and breeches she slipped off the material of her nightgown, remaining unashamedly naked before him, sweet, beautiful, his.
His little sister.
He drew her to him, placing tender, loud kisses full of affection on her bare skin, her nimble fingers pulling at the ribbon material at the back of his head, releasing the front strands of his hair.
He looked at her and smiled, thinking with pride that he was her husband and she was his wife, that every night from that day until his death she would spend at his side, in his bed, bearing his children, his inheritance.
They clung to each other like little children, sinking into each other's embrace, stroking each other's naked bodies, kissing the skin of each other's sweaty faces, red with emotion, knowing that no one would ever separate them again.
Before the face of men and gods, they were one.
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m-ilkiee · 5 months ago
Text
STUPID L♡VE - Toxic! Megumi Fushiguro x Fem! Reader
˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➞ [warning]: dark content, no curse au, aged up Megumi (both are in their midtwenties) fem!bodied reader, heavy angst, toxic and abusive relationship, love drunk reader, jealous megumi, abandoment issues, exes to "lovers", mentions of alcohol and drug use, smut, mean dom! Megumi, sub!reader, coercion, noncon to dubcon, manhandling, choking cunnilingus, mentions of blowjobs and face fucking, squirting, use of restraint, slut-shaming, mutual pining, manipulation, implied baby trapping, gaslighting
˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➞ [wc]: 5.01k
˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➞ [r-18+] not suitable for people aged 17 and under
˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➞ [masterlist] [taglist] [main page]
˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➞ [authors note]: if you liked this, consider reblogging and commenting your thoughts, I'd love to hear them♡ this is a prelude to my megumi series "E-boys Ruined my life" so if you're interested in this, consider sticking around for a full series.
-ˋˏ✄┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈
IT was inevitable that you and Megumi were going to eventually break up.
Everyone else could see the signs as clear as the day that you two wouldn't last, that you two shouldn't have lasted, and yet this cat and mouse game you called a relationship spanned for four whole months, longer than anything he ever had before you and honestly he was shocked because it wasn't meant to last that long.
After all, he hated how clingy you were every time the two of you were together, holding onto him as if he was your lifeline, your sweet words of affirmation purring into his ears every time you settled yourself beside him. He hated that genuine smile you always had on your lips anytime you saw him, a scowl marring his pretty features whenever you entered the room, wrapping your arms around his lanky frame, your soft lips pressed on his cheek affectionately. He hated how you would stare at him with your emotions bare for him to see, especially during sex, always whimpering out praises to him, his name falling out your mouth, no matter how fast he was going just to shut you up because he knew that you couldn't keep up when he thrust at such an insane pace, no matter what pain he inflicted in you, forcing his cock down your throat just to see you suffer taking all of him with tears running down your cheeks. You never showed animosity to him, not even when you knew that when he's done using your body, he'd just put on his clothes and leave you there, aching, bruised, and too exhausted.
It was baffling how despite everything you stayed by his side, your love never wavering when it was his goal to destroy that happiness you had so that you could be like him; miserable and very self-aware of how the world was cruel to naive clowns like you.
You called it devotion, he called it stupidity and never hesistated to remind you how much of a stupid girl you were.
And finally, after four months of trying to break your resolve, he got tired of trying and told you it was over. "You make me sick," he had spat out in a cold tone, watching your face morph into one of pure shock while you just helplessly stood in front of his penthouse.  "I'm done with you! Just get lost and pretend you don't know me." He concluded, trying to even out his heavy breathing.
Megumi didn't understand why his heart dropped to his stomach the moment you let out a loud, heart-wrenching wail the moment he slammed the door in your face, but he pushed it aside, disgusted he'd even think of caring about you in the first place, drowning your pleas and unsolicited apologies by increasing the sound of the call of duty he was playing before your visit.
The breakup wasn't so bad on him at first. He went back to his old life like getting high with his friends when he was free and attending parties only because there was some needy chick ready to help him get his dick wet somehow. He could feel a bit of your absence, you were always the one taking him home and putting him to bed whenever he was intoxicated, and in his moments of weakness, he'd ask you to lie beside him, resting your head on his chest and warming him up.
The bed is awfully cold without you lulling him to sleep, and now he'd spend his drunken nights forcing himself to remember why he hates you and why he doesn't need you until he falls back to a troubled sleep.
Women became a blur to him very soon, non-memorable compared to you. You were always willing for him to break you, your lips making such pretty sounds whenever he touched you, kissed you, or had sex with you. Your body was his, free for just him; you became his fantasy, his daydream whenever he was alone in his bedroom.
You always cradled him whenever he had nightmares of his childhood, despite all the caustic words he threw at you about leaving him all alone like his father did, calling you a slut, a whore in moments of jealousy before ripping your pants off or forcing you on your knees to remind you who you belonged to, because he never fully trusted you when he'd see you hanging around guys. They could have taken you at any point in time, they were far nicer and sweeter to you than he ever was.
The memories of you eat him alive slowly until he can't take it anymore. He accepts that as twisted as it sounds, he is actually in love with you.
-ˋˏ✄┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈
"You make me sick."
You sit at the window of the cafe, staring into space as you ruminate on Megumi's words yet again, a look of longing plastered across your face. It seemed that everyone you ever loved always, always felt disgusted by you no matter what you do.
You can remember the last time you met Megumi, back in high school. He was the school's sweetheart, everyone loved him and naturally gravitated towards the relatively cool and calm boy back then. His looks were also a booster to his already popular relationship; he was beautiful, the embodiment of perfection, with an arrogant grace to his walking step. He was on his way to class when he noticed that you were crouched over in a corner, tears glistening in your eyes, sobs escaping your lips as your period cramps wreaked havoc on you. You expected him to just ignore your presence like everyone else who saw you on their way to class did and you waited for him to just walk off, tears still rolling down your cheeks.
So when he stopped right in front of you, drawing the uniform of his school trousers up a bit to let him squat to your level, you could barely hide your shock, before it was replaced with pain again. Wordlessly, you let him pick you up from the floor, into his arms in a bridal fashion and walked you to the nurse's office, never leaving your side even after you slept off.
By the time you woke up, he was staring at your face like you were sleeping beauty, his green eyes glimmering in the setting sun, legs crossed over each other and his lips pressed in a line. He reached over and gently touched your cheek before telling you to go to the nurse's office the next time you felt like you were having cramps. You remembered the embarrassment you felt before it melted away into the warmth of affection and gratitude for his help. He walked you home that day, even giving up his sweater for you because you had bled out and stained your skirt, telling you not to worry about it and to return it tomorrow, only for you to search for him the next day to discover he had moved away to another school.
Ten years into the future and you bumped into him in your neighborhood. Apparently, he was your neighbor's best friend, Yuuji Itadori and he came for a visit. Despite him growing much taller, his chest and shoulders broader, his green eyes cold and devoid of any form of life, and his face matured, he was still the same boy -now a man- you fell in love with. Then, you should have known he wasn't interested in you when he pretended he didn't know or remember who you were when his eyes betrayed him.
You should have seen the signs when he finally acknowledged that he did know you, just that he didn't want to talk with anyone from his past; You included.
Or even if you were blind, Yuuji had tried to warn you that his friend was not the same as he was in the past, that he had underlying issues he's yet to resolve, "Megumi has grown cold over the years." Yuuji warned you as soon as he saw you were teetering on the ledge of 'I can fix him' like the other women Megumi has had in his life. He didn't want you to end up in a situation where you were devastated; you were a good person who deserved better.
But even with that information, you told him that you'd warm up Megumi's heart again; he'd be happy if he had someone to share his burdens with. Yuuji even brought Nobara, another friend who knew Megumi to try and talk to you. "Look for someone else." She warned, trying to change your mind. "I've seen how other women suffer for loving him. Do you think you can handle him when he is in one of his moods?" she asked, grabbing your shoulders and shaking you hard so that your senses would come back.
They stopped trying to help you as soon as Megumi announced that you two were a thing.
Looking back, you realize that you were a lost cause to them, and to be honest, your fate hasn't changed because you still cry for him just like you did all those years, holding onto his sweater as your lifeline when you cried every night, your heart aching in your chest with longing.
Not anymore though.
The sweater sits beside you, neatly folded in a ziplock bag, the only thing keeping you from getting closure from your failed relationship with the man you thought would love you back after all these years. Do you really think you were in a romance novel? Real-life didn't work that way and it was painful you had to realize the hard way. Sighing, you picked up your phone and searched for his number to text him:
You: I’m returning your sweater.
My love 💞: I don't remember giving you a sweater. Must have been one of the guys you were flirting with when we were in a relationship
You: it’s been in my drawer for about ten years. I think it’s time to let it go.
My love 💞: oh
My love 💞: You kept that thing. Always so sentimental.
My love 💞: Just donate it or better still, set it on fire.
You: I’m not burning it and I’m not donating it, Fushiguro. I’m giving it back to you to let go of whatever ties I have with you.
My love 💞: fine. Whatever rocks your boat, I’ll just burn it myself.
Frustration threatens to set in, but you remind yourself that it wasn't worth it anymore. At this point, you already expect this response from him and if this wasn't enough sign that you should break free from whatever feelings you have for him, then you don't know what is.
-ˋˏ✄┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈
  TWO big dogs running from the open door to greet you in the hallway was a refreshing start. You smile as they settle on your foot before kneeling and hugging them tightly.
Honestly, you feel they are the only good traits Megumi has. He takes good care of these dogs, pets and pampers them more than he’s ever treated you.
Sometimes you hate him for it. Maybe if you were a damn dog he'd like you more.
"I've got to go guys," You whisper as they nuzzle your chest and neck affectionately. "Megumi doesn't want me here so this might be the last time you'd see me." You frown as soon as you hear them whimper as if asking you to stay longer. Maybe if it was a different circumstance, you would have.
If you stay any longer, you wouldn't move on.
Anxiously, you pull away from the dogs and stand upright, before making your way to his front door, your legs trembling from the tension you feel from within your mind. You know you aren't ready to face Megumi, not after the humiliating breakup that occurred right at his front door you were about to go back to again. Maybe giving him back this sweater was a mistake, you should have just burnt it like he suggested or given it to charity, anything to avoid confronting Megumi at this point.
You hesitantly knock on his open door gently, hoping that he wouldn't come out and you would just drop it on the doorstep and run away.
The door swung open and you gulped visibly as soon as his intimidating figure hovers above you, dressed in his slacks and dress shirt, his tie hanging loosely around his neck, hair disheveled and green eyes piercing through your soul and making you lose all feelings in your legs. Your voice got caught in your throat as he stares down at you, his pretty lips morphing into a smirk as soon as he sees you shuddering under his gaze.
"I haven't got all day, I just came from work and I'm tired," His tone is dry, seemingly amused at your lack of courage now that you are face to face. "Hurry up and give it to me," he demands lowly, leaning back on the lenticel.
You feel your hands shake violently as you slowly raise the package to his face. Your eyes stay glued to the ground, not wanting to meet his frightening gaze in fear of breaking down if you look him in the eye. Megumi's lips stretch into a bigger smirk as he watches you tremble before him, holding out the sweater as a protective shield, as if it can protect you from his eyes that linger on your curves, drinking in every dip and bulge while you stand motionless.
Deciding to play with your mind for a bit, he grabs your chin firmly, forcing you to look him in the eye. "You seemed so brave in the text messages," he scoffs at you disapprovingly. "I could swear you were going to break down my door if I didn't take the sweater from you."
Finally finding your voice, you force out a quiet "let me go" enough to reach his ears. This was what you were avoiding, for him to corner you like this to the point you would give in to his whims, just like when you were together. But you aren't, and he has no right to touch you like this anymore, so you bring your free hand up to him and push his chest as hard as you can.
"It almost seems like the sweater was an excuse for you to come and see me huh?" He teases,  eyeing your body up and down as you attempt to push him away, internally laughing at your effort. "That's why you're so inappropriately dressed, isn't it?" he spits in his usual caustic tone as he refers to the dress you wore that clung to your body like a second skin, his member twitching at the sight of your beautiful body -your delicious curves, your terrified face, your thighs, everything. He remembers how willing you were for him to mark you, to put his fingerprints on your thighs, that may be why you were exposing them right now, right? And your chest, you would always throw your head back when he groped you through your top while fingering you, your neck exposed for him to litter marks all over them.
You belong to him, he can see that now.
"Megumi stop!" You hiss, finally showing how upset you were with him, snapping him out of his dirty thoughts. Scoffing, he slowly let go of you, taking a step back before opening the door wider for you. "You should come inside, I'm not sure the neighbors would appreciate you disturbing their peaceful Monday evening." He advises in an even and sharp tone. You suddenly feel small under his predatory gaze and your instincts tell you to reject his offer.
If you step inside that house, you would end up doing things that you weren't meant to do with him.
"That's not necessary-" you begin, now attempting to move back, pushing his sweater towards his line of sight. "Just take it and let me go."
"You know damn well I was never interested in that stupid sweater in the first place," he states, eyes not leaving your cleavage. His heart pounds in his chest as his erection straining against his pants. "Besides, I want to talk, so let's go inside." he insists impatiently, his eyes glued onto you.
"I'm not going in there with you."
"It wasn't a suggestion," his dark voice catches you off guard, his larger hand capturing your wrist in a bruising grip, causing you to gasp as he yanks you closer to his body, his hot breath fanning your face and neck, sending shivers down your spine. "unless you want me to fuck you in front of my neighbors, get inside, now."
You didn’t have to be told twice.
-ˋˏ✄┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈
  YOU stifle a cry of pain as soon as he manhandles you into his living room, pushing you onto the love seat roughly, eliciting a pained gasp from your pretty lips -music to his ears and his hard-on as he hovers above you, dangerous green eyes undressing every inch of you, wondering where he should start devouring you from. His eyes settle on your thighs and he wonders to himself if he ever took his time to taste you the last time he bedded you. He keeps on moving towards the chair until he stands right in front of you, not breaking eye contact as he wedges a knee in between your closed legs, forcing them open without a word as he climbs onto your frightened figure, face hovering above yours while his broad arms cages you in.
"You know, I missed you," He confesses as his mint breath fanned your lips, not breaking eye contact with you. "I missed this," he leans closer before pressing his lips against your neck briefly, making you shudder at how cold his soft lips felt on your neck. He raises his head from your neck to look at your face again, pressing his forehead against yours and forcing you to inhale his expensive perfume, the scent intoxicating and overwhelming you, as typical of Megumi.
"We're not together anymore. I need to go-" You weakly protest, only for him to silence you with kisses, each harsher than the last until you give up and just kiss him back, letting him invade and conquer your mouth with his tongue, exploring every inch until you are both breathless and pulls away from you, foreheads still connected as he steadies his breathing.
"You want to leave me, huh?" He snarls, eyes, knee pressing harder on your throbbing clit, earning a choked moan from you. "Already found someone else? or you're fucking my friends behind my back?"
He doesn't even let you answer as he climbs off you and yanks your body to a face-down position, tying your hands behind your back in a secure knot with his tie, before yanking you back to your position. "You didn't even beg me, you didn't fall on your knees to pray that I return to you." he scoffs as he looks at his masterpiece; you tied up on his chair, legs sprawled out for him to see your clothed crotch, exposed for him to see, tears threatening to spill from your eyes. "Or maybe you want me to beg you? For me to apologize and get on my knees," He begins, his knees hitting the plush rug, hot heavy breaths fanning your thighs as his large hands hold them apart. "You want me to eat you out as punishment, huh?"
"Megumi, no, I didn't say-"
You go silent as soon as his head dove into your thighs and took a long sniff of your panties, wet with arousal, proof of your body betraying your mind. Your breathing becomes uneven as soon as you felt his hands move from your thighs to the panties, ripping them apart with a firm pull. Your worried eyes catch him staring at your wet core like a snack, licking his lips hungrily before darting his pink tongue against your clit experimentally. You shut your eyes in embarrassment when you let out a loud moan, jerking your legs at the pleasurable sensation, only getting louder as he aggressively dives his tongue inside you, his straight nose bumping onto your sensitive bud as he eats you out.
Your eyes roll back as soon as he threw your legs over his shoulders, grabbing your pillowy hips and rocking them into your face, thrusting his tongue faster while staring into your eyes with his predator glare, getting you weaker in the knees as he moves at an inhuman pace while he tongue fucks you.
The wet sounds of his tongue gliding into your core, while you moan his name like a mantra -as if that would ever make him go easier on you- only seem to spur him on, eager to taste your cum on his tongue before he properly fucks you to submission.
He is depraved and he knows it, but he doesn't care as long as he has your love and your body all to himself irrespective of how he treated you.
"Megumi-" you cry out, wanting to push his head off your core when you felt a strange coil in your stomach, much different than your usual orgasm -stronger perhaps- building up in your stomach. "Megumi stop, I feel strange," you cry out to him, only for him to send a glare at your direction, moving his head faster while he rocks your hips at a maddening pace despite your protests until he feels you violently shudder, a huge spurt of your cum decorating his tongue and parts of his face much to your horror.
"Shit," He rasps hungrily, lapping and sucking at every drop until he was satisfied, falling back onto the balls of his feet weakly, lips still glistening with your release and his spit, catching his breath for a bit before his pleasure-filled eyes flicker up to your shame-filled face again. "That felt great huh?" he asks quietly, moving up to his feet to stand, hands shakingly unbuttoning his shirt before shrugging it off his shoulders to reveal his beautiful lean torso.
You find yourself ogling at him again and yet you don't stop this time; What was the point? You had given up long before he made you come into his house anyways and now that he has eaten you out, your core only aches for him to fill you up to the brim like he always did, to shape you according to his lengthy cock, your anger and hurt buried deep down by how sexy he looks devouring and overwhelming you.
"See?" he mocks as he loosens his belt, noticing the horny, needy look you had on your face at the sight of him lowering his trousers and boxers to set his lengthy dick free into his palm. "didn't I tell you that you would like it?" he asks menacingly, pumping his dick in his hand as he hovers above your body, waiting for your answer while he climbs on top of you, positioning his cock near your slit. He notices your eyes greedily looking at his member instead of his face and for some reason, it angers him. Hissing under his breath, he grabs your throat and presses his fingers at the sides for you to pay attention to him. "I was asking a question you whore," He states, trying to keep his temper in check while you gasp slightly at the restriction. "but it seems you only like my dick huh? that's all you want?" he sneers as he buries himself inside you. "After I made you cum, you still can't pay attention to me?"
"No, Megumi, it's not like that, wait-" you stutter out, your brain getting foggy as he sheaths himself inside you fully. "Wait, wait, it's too much, pull out, pull out"
"Shut up." He snarls, gripping your throat tighter and forcing you to be quiet.
You could only moan as he begins to pump himself inside of you in quick successions, occasionally pulling himself out and leaving you clenching on nothing, only for him to slam himself inside you and move faster with much vigor, swearing as he pistons himself inside your pussy, hitting every spot you swear he didn't know or care about before, bringing the both of you to the edge again. He mercilessly pounds inside you, his hand releasing your throat and grabbing your feet to press them hard onto your chest so that he goes deeper inside you, as opposed to him just pulling out and dumping his load on your belly when he wasn't with a condom.
As if he is trying to breed you with his children.
Your eyes widen in realization, but it was too late, lost in the sea of pleasure as your climaxes hit, his hot seed pouring deep inside you as you cream all over his orgasming cock, the action only spurring him to cum faster until he was spent, leaving his dick inside you long after it softens.
You both just stay in that same position for a while, his head pressed against your neck until he pulls away from you and leaves you there in an uncomfortable position. You shudder at the feeling of his hot semen trickle down your thighs, tears threatening to gather in your eyes at the realization of his intent before hiding them once you hear his quiet footsteps moving over to you again, bucket in hand and two rags - one in his other hand and one hanging on his neck as if he prepared all this for you.
It was shocking because he would have told you to get lost by now, bare assed underneath your dress, struggling not to let it drop on his floor lest you make him furious.
Kneeling in between your thighs, he soaks the rag and squeezes it hard before wiping off the excess cum and spit on them, his eyes never leaving his work before dumping it inside the water and taking the other one to dry you off. Satisfied, he gets up and reaches behind you before tugging off his silk tie with the flick of his wrist, setting you free from his makeshift bondage.
Free enough to slap him, but you know better than to wander into that dangerous territory.
"I'm tired," He mutters once he gets up. He isn't lying; the dark circles underneath his eyes and the sudden fatigue from the slump of his shoulders gave him away. Has he been sleeping well? "come on, let's go to bed."
You don't protest -you don't even have the chance- as he yanks you up from the chair and takes you in his arms, before making his way to the stairs until you both reach the hallways leading to his room, a place you've always been familiar with for a while. It felt nostalgic in a sick sense, him carrying you to the place of rest while you were aching, just like the first time the two of you met before he moved away.
Maybe Megumi was still that same boy you craved for all those years, kind and caring, willing to help you out. Or maybe he was always the man you devoted your heart to, depraved and cruel and you just didn't have enough time to find out who he truly was because he left. The rumors back in high school about him beating up bullies who pissed him off and then taking advantage of the kindness of the victims by getting whatever he wanted makes more sense now to you as you're seeing it first hand.
You should hate him, really, but he's laying you down on his bed like a gentleman and he's climbing beside you, throwing his hand over your torso and pulling you closer to him until your body presses against his.
How could you hate him when you can hear his heartbeat against his chest while you rest your head on it, yours following in sync as you close your eyes? He made love to you on his couch, ate you out, cleaned you up, and brought you here to rest with him and you thought of hating him? Maybe this was why you made him sick in the first place, your ingratitude! Didn't you see he has changed? Sure, his words were caustic, but that's just the way he talks, you should know by now.
"Megumi." You call out quietly, feeling his sharp jaw on your head. He hums in response, resting his palm flat agaist your thigh.
"I love you."
You expect him to scoff at you before telling you to pick your shoes and leave. You even expect a cold "I know" or "Whatever you say" to come out of his mouth before turning his body to the opposite side and leaving you alone.
Instead, you feel his lips inch closer to your ears before whispering a quiet, "I love you too" and then kissing the shell of your ear, while grinding his semi-hard cock against your ass subtly, light sighs escaping his lips as he felt his dick strain his pants again.
The feeling of his hard-on against your soft ass made you moan softly in response, before shuddering as his large hand pulled your clothes up and guided his cock to the opening of your already wet folds, ready to fill you up to the brim all over again just to show his love.
And he'll keep doing it again every chance he gets, every time he sees you until your stomach starts to swell with his child and you have no excuse not to beg for him to come back when he decides to break you again. The game his twisted mind made up is far over and not even these feelings he harbors for you deep down in his heart would stop him from further destroying you until you were just as miserable as he was and until he - and no one else but him, becomes your only source of joy.
"You love me right? Then you won't mind being my mommy, would you?"
-ˋˏ✄┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈
˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➞ layla 2024, do not repost, translate or plagarize my post on this platform or any other platform. before you follow, read my rules first.
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last-words-ofashootingstar · 8 months ago
Text
Allure
Part Two:Knuckle Velvet
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❥MATZ x fem reader
Part One(Sunshine)
Part Three(Smoke)
➯a/n: i'm so glad people like this story, i've spent so much time on it and it's a labor of love, enjoy part two <33 if you're new here, part one is very much needed to understand what's going on and please read the warnings and take care of yourself ! if you didn't see my update, i lost the final draft of part three and now only have a paper draft so apologies that it will take a little bit to be uploaded ❤️‍🩹
✃ "Mind, body, soul, and wolf."
♫"Nothing hurts like the way you do; like the way you say "I love you." " -Knuckle Velvet, Ethel Cain♫Allure Soundtrack
✫彡wordcount: 6.9k
(>ᴗ•)♡´・ᴗ・`♡genre: smut, YANDERE, a/b/o au
ಠ_ಠwarning/content: DEAD DOVE I MURDERED THAT BEOTCH chapter specific: not beta read(ironically), criminal MATZ, alpha MATZ/omega reader, forced soul bonding, forced marking, nobody is mentally well, yandere and possessive behavior, talk of murder, talk of drugs, bits of humor because i was going insane, smoking 🍃, sh in the form of putting joints out on skin(NOT READER, NOT DESCRIPTIVE), reckless driving(is that a warning?), reader needs a hug like honestly-
cunnilingus, nudity, heat cycle, outdoor, fingering, THIS IS NOT A NON CON FIC, ALL SMUT IS CONSENSUAL.
⁂perm taglist: @stvrfir3 @tunaasan @marievllr-abg
⁂fic taglist: @potatomountain @spooo00oky @choichaeyiul @cheynalexilaiho @haven-cove @hwasbabygirl @gong-fourz @chaotic-floral @hyukssunflower @unlikelysublimekryptonite @tinybada @sunnyhokyu @calisnewworld @elysiangroundsforall
MATURE UNDER CUT MDNI
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˚➶ 。˚ PART TWO ˚➶ 。˚
Something is wrong.
The warmth of your bed calls you back to sleep as you stir.
Something is wrong.
The smell of cooking pancakes wafts through the air, your stomach churns in interest.
Something is wrong.
The hand on your side is so soft it's almost fleeting.
Something is wrong.
Your eyes snap open, blurry vision landing on an unfortunately familiar set of features. Long brown hair, full lips in a seemingly perpetual line, thick letters on his neck.
You let out a scream as your body catches up with your mind, kicking Seonghwas arm and crawling back into the corner of your bed. "Sleep well? I sure hope so, Hongjoong nearly cried because you didn't get to mark him back before you passed out." His calm demeanor is the very antithesis of your state; frazzled and heart beating wildly in your ears. "I'm not too pleased with waiting either."
You go to pull the blanket over yourself again when he rips it off the bed completely. "G-go away, or else..." Your weak attempt at a threat makes the criminal grin, and he stands from his squatting position, looming over your cowering form.
"Oh you don't know how deep in you are, do you?" He purrs, crawling onto the mattress. It creaks pitifully under his weight as he moves ever closer.
He stops just short of being right in your face. "We own you. And when you stop this little tantrum, mark us back... you own us. A little thing like you, been on that blocker for God knows how long, you won't last but a few more hours until you're running to us with your tail between your legs. Hormones flooding your system, begging for your alphas...Begging for your mates." His eyes flick to your bruised shoulders, their marks peeking out of your scrubs. "Don't make us wait too long now, omega. We aren't patient men."
"Hwa!"
He leans away from you, yelling back to the voice, "what?!" His booming voice makes you jump, and take a deathly tight grip your pillow.
"Food!"
He looks back to you, and it's as if you can tell what he's thinking. You shake your head, slapping his hand away when he goes to grab your wrist. "C'mon now, you won't want an empty stomach when we mate-" He's cut off when a pillow hits his head, leaving him to let out an exasperated sigh.
Hongjoong turns around just as Seonghwa rounds the corner with your fidgeting form over his shoulder. "Hey, Dolly!" He greets casually, like this is an everyday occurrence, as he sets down the plate he's holding next to the other two on your little round table.
"Help! Help me!" You scream, gasping as you're quite literally thrown in a chair.
"No use in that," Hongjoong begins as he sits opposite of you, "no one will hear you. We cleared this place out. If they aren't dead, they're in the prison with our pack."
       Your eyes well with tears. You don't doubt his words for a second. Massacring and holding a town hostage wouldn't even be on the top three of their crimes.
      You take a shaking breath and gather yourself, glaring at the blonde silently. "Oh are you mad?" He asks teasingly. "We made ourselves comfy, hope you don't mind! Lovely little place you've got here."
You choose to stay silent, not trusting your own voice as it wavers even in your head.
"Eat up," Seonghwa pushes one of the plates to you, but Hongjoong snatches it back, eyeing you as you eye it.
It's been a full day since you've eaten, judging by the rising sun in the window. And you silently curse yourself for skipping lunch.
"Something you need to do first, Dolly." He taps his neck, a small grin playing at his lips as he notices your eyebrows push together. He wishes he could crawl into your head and see all of those thoughts that are undoubtedly suffocating you.
And they are. Your lungs feel heavy as you weigh every option against one another. You could run- but you've never outran an alpha, let alone two. You could hide- but that didn't work too well in the prison. You could simply refuse to return the bite- but the last wolf who did that was turned inside out, literally. You could simply cry and hope for their mercy- but you knew it would never come.
Your chair scratches the hardwood under it as you slowly push yourself away from the table. You notice you're missing your shoes as you trudge the few feet that feel like miles.
Hongjoongs head is eagerly turned to the untainted side, Seonghwa's mark mirrored to where you must leave yours.
You attempt to tune out the joyous howling of your wolf, tell her this is not a good thing. But she doesn't care. All she says is-
Mate. Mate. Mate. Mate. Mate.
You wince as your canines push through your gums unannounced, lip snarling upward to give them room.
Seonghwa watches with a sadistic glint in his eye as you bend forward, tears building up in your own.
You hate to admit that Hongjoong, both of them really, smell wonderful. But your wolf sure doesn't, she only chants louder.
Mate. Mate. Mate. Mate. Mate. Mate. Mate. Mate. Mate. Mate.
Your anxious breathes fan against his neck, goosebumps arising in response and anticipation.
His heart is skipping beats. You're so close that you can hear it.
Mate. Mate. Mate. Mate. Mate. Mate. Mate. Mate. Mate. Mate. Mate. Mate. Mate. Mate. Mate.
With a quick movement, your teeth are sunk into his flesh, forever bonding you.
˚➶ 。˚
    The searing water pelts your back. Steam swirls in the air. Your cries and sniffles echo on the linoleum tile.
     After marking both alphas you didn't have much appetite but, after helping you rinse your mouth, Hongjoong had made you eat everything on your plate before he let you run to the bathroom and lock yourself in.
     Despite the pull in his gut, the urge to break down the door and comfort you, Hongjoong had forced himself to leave. He couldn't listen to your cries, even if he was the cause of them.
      That left the older alpha alone in your humble living room. He tuned his ears to focus on the rainfall, the rolling thunder, the periodic knocking of your air conditioning, anything but the sound of your sorrow.
    You don't quite find it in yourself to care who is or isn't in your home, you find yourself with a much more immediate problem.
     Seonghwa was right.
   You feel heat bubbling to life in your lower stomach, slowly consuming the ball of anxiety that resides there. Your wolf is loud. She won't shut up. Mate this, mate that, knot this, and knot that. You wish with every ounce of your being that she wouldn't be such a primal animal, but that's much like expecting a wild animal to be house trained.
     You find your tears slowly drying, washed away from your cheeks by the ever falling water.
     You hadn't had a heat in a good long while. And now you were mated to two alphas? Seonghwa was right, and you are beyond fucked. You'd never even had a partner during a heat.
     A whimper trembles past your lips without your consent, small and pathetic much like how you feel.
You go to grip the knobs, gasping as you see your claws. They look thicker than before, darker as well. You bring them to your face, turning your hand over and inspecting them. "What..."
A knock at the door startles you enough to grab the tub, new and improved nails leaving indents on the acrylic fiberglass. "(Y/n)? Don't get too hot, the steam is coming out into the hall."
"Go away!" You squeeze your eyes shut, praying Seonghwa didn't hear the sorry crack in your voice.
Your prayers, much like yesterday, go unanswered, unheard. "Are you okay in there? I know... I know the situation isn't ideal-"
"Shut up!" You growl, hand immediately slapped to your mouth in shock of your own outburst. The quiet is eating you alive, making you wish the raining water above you would somehow drown you.
"I'm coming in."
"No! Just fucking leave me alone." Your eyes are wide at the sound of your own voice once again. You, your body is curled into the corner of the tub wanting to disappear and become one with the tiles below you. You, your mouth is loud and proud with your anger.
He opens the lock with his claw, breaking your deceptive sense of privacy. The stream rises into the hall in a thick fog, obscuring his vision. He tries to look for your outline behind the shower curtain but he finds nothing. When a small sniff sounds, his eyes flick to the source. The shadow of a curled up body.
When he grab the curtain, your voice comes out quietly. "Please don't touch me."
"I won't." He speaks shortly, opening the fabric just enough to turn off the water. Immediately, with no sound to drown it out, he hears your irregular heartbeat. "I won't," he says with a voice soft with promise.
The silence drapes you both, listening closely to one another for any sign of movement or speech.
Your ears are perked up, eyes wide and wild as you watch his silhouette take a seat on the closed toilet. He seems to be watching you as well.
"You're in heat." He breaks the hush with a punch. It's not a question, more so it's an observation from his sharp senses.
"Yes." You whisper back.
"How long since you had your last one? That blocker was in there deep." His voice holds something like quiet empathy, which makes your wolf want to crawl to him even more. You try to calculate the years to give him a good estimate of how bad this will get, but your brain feels too hot in your head.
"Long," is all you can muster up.
The quiet blankets you again, the only sound the raging storm outside. A clap of thunder makes you jerk, wrapping your clawed hands around yourself for a sense of comfort.
His hand comes through the gap in the curtain, holding your large fluffy towel. You take it with an almost silent thank you, wrapping it around your shoulders as you stay seated.
He watches the steam dissipate, surveying your small bathroom. The tub and shower which currently holds you takes up the short wall. The toilet he sits on has a soft fabric covering on the lid, the short blue yarn matches the color of the walls and the striped curtain. Your medicine cabinet has small little flowers painted on it with an obviously careful hand. Your products on the counter are organized in re-used plastic containers. Your clothes are set on the edge and awaiting you.
He wonders what you'll do to their home when it becomes yours as well.
When you shuffle, he looks back to your distorted form. Slowly standing, you clear your throat. "Can you, uhm..."
"Yeah, yeah, sorry," he mutters as he stands, closing the door behind him.
Taking a peek around the drape, you make sure he's really gone before you step out and quickly dry yourself off, blinking away the tears that start to build again.
     With a fresh outfit on and having scrubbed off as much of them as you could, you step out of the bathroom for the first time in hours. Hongjoongs scent is weak, making you briefly wonder where he went as you tip toe around your own home.
     The door to your room is still ajar, but a glimpse inside shows no sign of the alpha who's smell is still strong. The sound of the TV draws you out to the compact living room. There, you can see the back of his head as he faces the box television, watching a rerun of Starsky and Hutchy.
     He says nothing as you sit down, and you say nothing back. He's not paying attention, and neither are you. But neither of you dare speak first.
˚➶ 。˚
How you fell asleep, you have no idea. But the slam of the front door makes you jump awake, grabbing the nearest object which happens to be Seonghwas forearm.
He places his hand on yours wordlessly and turns to see whoever has the nerve to wake you. "Mingi?" He groans after a moment of reflection.
The strange man in your home, Mingi, is tall, taller than Seonghwa- and it makes you cower into the alpha subconsciously. He shakes the rain water out of his short pink hair in a way akin to a dog after a bath, unbothered by the glare and the wide eyes on him. "Hey!"
"What are you-"
"Joong sent me," he lifts up a duffel bag with a grin, kicking his shoes off as to not drag mud into your home and piss off his alphas mate. "Hi," he smiles more politely towards you as he slowly approaches, noticing your arms tremor.
"You forget how to knock?" Seonghwa grumbles as he stands, hand hesitantly leaving your own as he walks behind the couch to join the man.
"Well I didn't hear anything, I figured you were sleeping or something." He shrugs simply as he sits the bag on the sewing machine you use as a desk.
"We were, asshat." The brotherly bickering of the pack mates makes you smile, and you hide your lips in the cushion as you watch them carefully from you backwards seating on the couch.
     The pink haired man's attention lands on you as Seonghwa looks through the clothes in the bag. "Hi, 'm Mingi," he smiles kindly, holding his hand out to you only for it to be smacked down quickly by Seonghwa with a glare. "Uhm, rude," he rolls his eyes with a clear playfulness.
     "No touching," he huffs shortly, eyes flicking back to you. "He touches you, I cut off his fingers. I'm going to shower." He leans over the back off the couch and lifts your face out of the fabric gently, taking your lips in his possessively, leaving you flabbergasted as he leaves as quick as he came.
     Mingi whistles lowly as the bathroom door closes, chuckling at your starstruck expression. "This fuckin' guy, am I right?" He jokes, smiling awkwardly as he shifts his weight from foot to foot. "I'm an omega too, don't worry. I know it's scary coming across new wolves when you're like us, not knowing..."
      You nod silently, eyeing him up for any sign of danger. But you only find him shivering. "You want a towel or something...?"
    "Oh, if it's not any trouble," he smiles again, the gummy nature of it reminds you of Jihyun, and you find a lot of your nerves draining away. He's an omega like you, so you have a fair chance against him. And despite everything, you doubt Seonghwa would let anyone hurt you, let alone someone from his own pack.
    You sneak by him quickly and into the closet in the hall next to the bathroom, where you can hear the water running.
     "Here you go," you hand it over before taking a seat again, turning backwards on the couch to keep an eye on him as he towels off his hair.
    Starsky and Hutch keeps the silence from being too stiff, but it's clear Mingi has a lot of words on his tongue fighting to come out as he dries his arms.
    "Do-"
    "Is-"
    "Sorry," you both mumbles as you speak over each other. You motion to the seat next to you and he takes it with a quick, "thanks."
    "So," you begin, tucking your knees under your chin, "he's your alpha?"
    "Both of them, they lead together." He nods as he speaks, looking around your home.
    "That's weird," you mumble to yourself, picking at the string on your sock, "how does that work?"
     "Well... I mean they just kind of lead us all together. Make decisions together, it's not a dictatorship actually- they let us vote on stuff sometimes, it's nice. I'm sure you'll come to understand our pack, we're just a bit... different."
    "How did, uh, I mean I've heard some stuff, I dunno-"
    "You can ask me. I know those two probably weren't very talkative."
   "Yeah," you chuckle quietly, taking a peek at him, "they made their own pack, right? How did you end up here?"
    He looks back at you and slowly relaxes in his seat, both of you growing more comfortable as your wolves sniff one another out. "Yeah, that's right. They didn't roll up on a village like this and say, 'who's the strongest, let's fight', like most alphas come to be. They found each of us and asked us to join, didn't just demand it. I was one of the first, actually. They found me stealing some food in Minnesota, told me pledge my loyalty and I'll never be cold or hungry again."
   "And?"
  "Hm?"
   "Have you been?"
    "Never," he shakes his head, "they're good alphas. Maybe not the best people, but good alphas. I'm sorry you had to join us this way... they can be a bit impulsive, impatient." His eyes are low and voice even lower, like he's trying to hide his words from the man who's most definitely listening in. "They aren't monsters, at least not the kind the news makes them out to be. They're the monsters the world shaped them into."
     You feel his wolf calling out to yours, albeit weakly. You've never felt it before. Is it because you're finally apart of a real pack? Because you're his alphas mate? Your eyes flick to your wolves and his follow suit, a pink color that matches his hair.
"Mingi." His voice breaks your small staring competition, both of you looking to him. He looks a lot different on his own clothes, and it makes your annoyingly loud wolf even louder. His forearm sleeve and neck tattoo is on show in his dark grey wifebeater, finally freed from the long sleeve orange top. The marks on his shoulders are out and proud as well. His bell bottom jeans make his long legs look even longer, like he's more than half leg. His inked up fingers work nimbly to buckle his belt. That's when you finally look away, sinful thoughts flooding your head thanks to your building heat.
"Has Hongjoong come up with a plan with the rest of you?"
     You don't register that he's come up to the couch until he's picking you up. You grab onto his shoulders and bite your lip as you yelp.
     "He says we should just sneak attack their camp, Jongho's been able to sus out their location with his-" Mingi clears his throat to stop himself as Seonghwa sends him a glare while he sits, settling you in his lap. "With some intel... says they only have two scouts at a time."
You curl up on yourself, breathing deeply- which turns out to be a grave mistake. Seonghwas sandalwood scent floods you all at once, the musky smell of the prison washed away. A wave of arousal hits you like the one in the shower, and he squeezes you closer to his chest.
"He'll tell me about it later, go on and go back to the prison and tell him come back."
"Wha-"
"Go now."
"Yup, yeah, I'm gone." Mingi jumps up, leaving the towel on the couch as he dashes to the door, disappearing with a quick, "later!"
You try to scramble away the second the door shuts, but the alpha grabs your ankle and pins you to the couch. "Please, please!" You shake your head while sniveling, quieted when he cups the back of your neck softly.
"Calm down, omega," he whispers, keeping his weight off of you, "you need us to get rid of that heat, you know that don't you?"
You nod dreadfully, burying your face in the cushion. "I don't want-"
"Tell me what you want, and that's what I will do. Nothing more. I won't force you to do anything but I won't let you suffer in your heat, do you understand?"
"Yes..."
"Do you want me to let you go?"
Despite yourself, you whisper, "no..."
"Tell me how to help you. Tell me what you want. Tell me what you want, omega, and I will give it to you."
˚➶ 。˚
By the time Hongjoong crashes through the front door clumsily, both of you are gone from the couch. A trail of torn clothes and the call of soft moans lead him to your bedroom, the door open wide to provide him a beautiful view.
You, in your bra and nearly nothing else. Legs spread around Seonghwas shoulders and socked toes curling into the bed. Your sharp teeth out and peeking through your lips as they part with a moan.
Seonghwa, kneeling and back arched as he anchors himself between your legs, forearms wrapped around your thighs. His tank top rising up to expose the ink on his lower back. Low, muffled moans rumble in his throat.
      "Started without me?" He asks smugly after he catches his breath from the overwhelming scene.
     Seonghwas head snaps back at the intruder, eyes red and jaw slick- but he goes right back to his meal, making you yip in surprise. Your eyes stay locked on his, lit aglow just like the alphas between your legs. Your chest rises and falls with bated breathes.
"Hongj-ah!" You grip the straps of Seonghwas top, eyes squeezing shut as you whine.
     Your logic and reasoning went out the window the second Seonghwas eyes turned red with lust. Now, you let your wolf get what she wants for the time being. You forgot how badly heats burn.
     Your bed dips and creaks with the additional weight as the younger alpha joins you. You feel his breath over the healing mark he left, followed by a lick which makes you gasp.
     Every touch both extinguishes the burn and makes it hotter.
    "You smell so good," Hongjoong coos into your neck, hands slowly wrapping around your waist, "will you let me have a taste too?"
      "Y-yes!" You nod eagerly, fidgeting under his light touches until a slender hand presses down on your stomach to keep you in place, followed by a growl.
     "I'm not done, am I, omega? I thought you wanted to cum on my tongue? That's what you asked for, after all," Seonghwa teases as he pulls back, free hand playing with the slick between your thighs. He watches with a smirk as you nod, over and over. "Yeah?"
    "Yeah! Please, Seonghwa!" You feel a pinch in your gut as you beg for the criminal, but it's washed away with another surge of pleasure. A soft hand on your cheek makes you push your eyes open, coming face to face with Hongjoong.
     "Poor omega," he pouts as he traces your jaw, "those blockers are good for nothing, only cause problems. We'll take good care of you, don't worry. Anything you want, Doll. Anything at all."
     Your request is wordless. A pull at his belt loop with your clawed finger.
˚➶ 。˚
You're fast asleep with your heat satisfied for the time being, sandwiched between the two alphas in your small bed. They keep quiet, enjoying the moment. They know that when you awake without your heat blurring your mind, you'll be distant again.
And they don't blame you.
Mingi was right, they're impulsive. They wanted you and they got you the second they could. They'll do whatever they can to make you realize you're meant to be their omega, their mate. They'll build the trust one step at a time, they just had to make sure you wouldn't slip away in the meantime.
Your breathes are slow and steady, deep in the hands of exhaustion. One of your legs is hooked across Hongjoongs hips, the other tangled in Seonghwas bell bottoms. Your arms are wrapped around the blondes neck, head buried in his shoulder.
Seonghwa has one arm tucked under both of your heads, fingers twirling Hongjoongs hair mindlessly as he holds a joint between his lips, inhaling deeply and letting the smoke out slowly. His pants are undone and underwear clumsily pulled back up.
      Hongjoong has his eyes closed peacefully, though he's not sleeping. He's listening intently to your heart beats, enjoying the familiar smell of his alphas smoking and the feeling of your naked body clinging to his.
       "Leave tomorrow?" Seonghwa whispers hushedly, letting the smoke in his lungs out in a puff.
     "The quicker we get home the better. We need to start making a real plan for that fuck face Greene." He snarls silently, pressing his nose into your hair in an attempt to calm himself.   
     "And make sure no one messed up while we were caged."
     "They told me Yunhos been taking care of the traffic flow, we should be good on that part. I just want to get my claws bloody."
    Seonghwa chuckles, rubbing his temple, "you know what's fucked? If that coward didn't rat us out, we wouldn't've found our mate."
      Hongjoong cracks a small smile, cradling your unconscious body close to his chest as Seonghwa stands. "Maybe I'll go easy on him then." He smirks, watching his shoulders bounce with silent laughter as he leaves the room, a trail of smoke following him.
     Seonghwa closes the bathroom door behind him, staring at his reflection. He takes the joint between his index and middle finger, leaning toward the glass.
     Hongjoong was made for this world, for his world. But were you? Had they just doomed you to a pitiful existence? Did he even care if they did?
     Peddling drugs and getting your claws bloody. He couldn't imagine you doing it. But he couldn't imagine letting you go.
     He pulls his jeans down and his boxers leg up, snuffing out the joint on his thigh.
˚➶ 。˚
   "It ain't a crime to be good to yourself! Lick it up! Lick it up! Woooo!"
      Your body is slung to the door of the van as Hongjoong drifts around the corner, the loud rock music only rivaled by his singing of it. You grab onto the passenger seat infront of you to hold yourself steady. "Does he have to be the one to drive?" You yell to Seognhwa who's in the row of seats behind you, laid across them with a grin.
     "He likes to pretend he's driving The A Team van!" 
        The van skids to a stop infront of the prison, and you have to force yourself to look away least you think about the people who are still being held hostage inside. "C'mon up here, Doll," Hongjoong holds his hand out to you in offering, and you take it. You crawl over the cup holder in the middle and land in the passenger seat, grabbing the bag they had let you pack before dragging you away from your home.
     "Where are we going?" You ask quietly, thankful that Hongjoong had the ears to be able to hear you over his cassette.
      "Back to our stomping grounds," he hums as he hits the button to unlock the doors, letting in the approaching group of people. "Los Aranza, it's in sou-"
     "What's up fuckers?" A young man shouts over the music as he hops into the middle row, making you jump as you look back. He smiles your way kindly, uttering a softer, "hey." 
    Mingi, who throws you a small smile, is climbing in next with a buffer man who immediately gives you the chills and a woman who looks like a sore thumb in the group. 
     Mingi gets in the back with Seonghwa and the woman ends up in the middle seat between the two other men despite her complaints.
"(Y/n), this is Wooyoung," Hongjoong introduces you to the first man, who waves your way. "Lia," the woman returns your awkward smile of a greeting. "And San," who, you don't expect to, leans over the center console and takes you in a sideways hug.
"No touching!" A grumble comes from the back, making San chuckle as he leans back into his seat.
"Nice to meet you," he grins brightly, promptly buckling his seatbelt when he hears Hongjoong start the vehicle back up.
Everyone else quickly copies his actions, and you get the memo the moment before the van lurches to life quickly.
The first few minutes are awkward silence save for the music, which Lia thankfully made the driver turn down.
"So, (Y/n)," Wooyoung starts up, "I don't want you to worry so..." You look back over your shoulder, taking a note of the small freckle under his eye as you search his features. "I just wanted to let you know that we called the state police before we left, it'll take a few hours but the rest of your village won't be stuck in there for too long."
The sentiment gives you the smallest hint of relief, knowing that they won't just be left there to wither until someone would notice that the whole town disappeared off the face of the planet. "Thanks..." You nod shortly, taking the time turned around to inspect the other new faces as well.
Lia has a seemingly familiar set of round and soft features, but you can't quite place it. Nor can you place her ranking in the group. She doesn't smell like a wolf, but you don't want to pry.
San, however, has the clear ego of a beta; chest puffed out and radiating confidence, but not power. He's got a smile that doesn't match any of that though, and that along with his friendly actions make you think he's not as scary as he presents.
You turn back around and face the road, watching the sign for your town wiz past.
"How far to Los A..."
"Aranza! Maybe like... 26 hours?" Lia's words make you look to Hongjoong, who's tapping away at the wheel as he speeds.
"Seonghwa," you call out.
"Hm?"
"Can someone else drive?"
˚➶ 。˚
Your request was denied, obviously, and everyone had to hang on every time Hongjoong made a turn or hit a bump. Admittedly, it was fun to watch him let loose and sing his heart out while the wind knocked his hair around. That, paired with the surprisingly kind conversation that the pack members made with you made for a good first three hours.
After that, Wooyoung got grumpy. "I'm hungry!"
Then, Mingi chimed in, "I have to use the bathroom!"
Then, San, "My legs asleep! Ow, really Lia?"
When you gave Hongjoong a begging glance, that's when he finally started looking for an exit on the highway.
The mom and pop restaurant was run down and quiet, but you were thankful that that meant less people to see the rag tag team of criminals you were with and potentially cause problems. The van was parked half hazardously in the back by the restrooms, and Mingi was the first out from the back doors, practically dashing into the men's room.
You grab the handle to the passenger side door only to be grabbed on the opposite wrist. You look to the assailant and see Hongjoong with a questioning gaze. "What? I have to...go," you shrug his hand away, opening your door and hopping down before he can stop you again.
You hear some soft foot steps enter the bathroom as you hover, but they don't enter a stall. "Did they send you to babysit me," you groan, nearly slapping yourself as you speak before thinking again.
"Yeah, sorry..." Lia's voice is apologetic, and when you finally exit: her face is as well. "They can be a bit...uhm."
"Paranoid? Overbearing?"
"Yeah," she nods softly, using the mirror she stands infront of to look at you as you wash your hands. The way your shoulders slump and your head hangs low makes her heart ache for you. "I hope we can be friends. You're going to need some in this side of the world."
You look in the mirror in front of yourself, matching her stance as you watch one another through the glasses. "I hope so, too."
     When you join the men back outside, they're all sitting on the curb with plastic bags infront of them. Lia sits in the space between Mingi and San, immediately grappling at the bag the ladder holds out to her. Seonghwa hands you one as well, nodding for you to take it, "yours."
    Inside is two large styrofoam boxes of delicious smelling food, and you look up with your brows pressed together. "This is a lot of food, Seonghwa, I'm not going to eat all of this." You set down one as you open up the other and sit on the warm concrete between the two alphas.
     "You need it, you're still in heat." He hums plainly, dropping a french fry into his mouth as San spits one out from his.
     "Hey!" You yell, feeling the heat of embarrassment rising up your neck.
      "What? It's true." He looks around to his pack members, seeing the three lower men looking away from you while Lia simply shakes her head at him, and Hongjoong nods.
     "He's right, we didn't even fuck- ow!" He glares at Mingi as he slaps him upside the head, "we didn't! We only y'know... messed around."
     "Bro, shut up!" Mingi sends you a quick compassionate glance before turning his face to his food. "You guys have zero tact."
     "Tact? What the hells that?" Hongjoong mumbles from around his burger, "you made that up."
  In defiance of your anger at him, his antics make you smile as you take a bite of food.
˚➶ 。˚
The next stop the vehicle makes is in the dead of night, the spring moon full and bright.
It was only you and Hongjoong awake when you asked if their promise from earlier still stood: whatever you need and nothing more.
He was quick to peel off the road and park the sleeping group before leading you into the woods to satisfy your once again noisy wolf.
You hate that you nearly start howling aloud when he pushes your back onto a tree, hand behind your head to protect it from the bark, and begins kissing you like he did in your bed.
He takes it a step further, slipping his hand down now that Seonghwa isn't there. His lips meld into yours as he slips his hand under the elastic waistband of your shorts. They travel lower as his fingers do the same, feeling the warmth of your heat which makes him groan into your neck.
When he feels your hands on his shoulders, he closes his eyes and cherishes your touch, letting his wolf drive him forward and press his body to yours in an act of affection which makes you dizzy.
His fingers find their way inside of you, making you gasp toward the stars. His knuckles feel like balls of velvet in your overly sensitive body, driving you nearer and nearer to the cliff of pleasure your wolf desperately needs to dive off of.
        Omega heats are pathetic, you think to yourself as your knees buckle: only being held up by Hongjoongs weight pressing you into the tree as he gives you satisfaction you're incapable of giving yourself.
Thankfully, all too soon, your pleasure reaches its peak and you tumble over it, gushing on his fingers and clinging to him as he kisses the healing mark his teeth left. He wraps his free arm around your back, holding your waist tightly as you tremble. "That's it, Doll..." His voice raises bumps on the flesh of your shoulder, his heavy breaths fanning them.
You can feel his length hard against you, but you're too afraid and too ashamed to acknowledge it and he knows it. But he's content with whatever you give to him in the moment, he doesn't care about his own pleasure as long as his mate is taken care of. He presses his nose into your scent and breathes deeply, letting out a growl as he feels your core clenching.
You feel a sense of dread as you come back to your head fully, watching with wide eyes as he takes his fingers from your shorts and into his mouth. You quickly look away, and hear him chuckling.
"It's okay to want us, Pretty. We're your mates. We want you just as bad."
You share a moment of sincere eye contact before your tears blur his image. "I'm afraid." You confess in a short huff, breathing in the soft wind that surrounds you.
   "Of what? We'll never let anything hurt you." His voice holds a simple directness, he means every word he says and he doesn't see the need to be poetic with it. He just wants to convey the truth to you. "Anyone looks at you the wrong way and I'll gut them. I'll put their head on a pike to show everyone else not to fuck with you."
      With his body once again pressing into you, albeit with a softness that wasn't found in your last heated moment, you find yourself looking down to avoid his wild eyes. He can smell a bittersweet spike of fear in your scent, and his brows furrow together.
     "I'm afraid of you... and of Seonghwa. You frighten me. You don't-" You bite your tongue before you let your emotions speak for you. After a moment, you break your silence, "you don't even know me... and it scares me what you're willing to do. You're criminals. And if... if you don't find me a suitable mate that I'll be next on your list of victims. I didn't ask for this, Hongjoong... I didn't want this."
      His face is stoic for a spell, but his lips slowly curve upward into a bestial grin: followed by the giggles that had haunted your dreams after the first time you heard them. "Oh, (Y/n)," he snickers, eyes closing with the force of his laughter. It rings out in the silent night and mocks you. What could he possibly be finding so funny about your legitimate fears?
     His body collapses into you as he laughs manically, making you freeze with a cry- your body trying to make itself small. You close your eyes, taking sniveling breaths as you will yourself to block out the deranged laughter. "Oh, you're just so adorable!"
    "S-stop laughing at me," you whine, attempting to push his weight off of you as the bark begins digging into your back. He doesn't look it, but he's heavy as all get out as he slumps into you.
     He grips your wrists as you push at his chest and pins them into the tree with his claws caging them in, all laughter gone in a spilt second as he glares down at you. "Now you listen, Doll," he growls between his teeth, making you cry sharper and clench your eyes tighter. He doesn't like that one bit. "Look at me when I'm talking to you, omega!"
You sheepishly open your eyes, too afraid to disobey him even though he's scaring the living daylights out of you with his mood swings. His eyes slowly return to normal, black fading into nothingness at the sight of your fearful eyes.
"Now you listen close, yeah?" He speaks softer than before, kicking your feet apart to stand between them and get closer to you. "You don't quite understand, I think... We could fucking smell you the second we rolled into that place. Now, Seonghwa thought it was a trick- a stupid ploy to get us to be tame. But when you walked into the room, oh we knew it was real! Just one wiff of your fresh scent and my wolf was clawing to get out. Even with that stupid blocker in your neck, we could smell you and that's how we knew. Other alphas won't even understand so it's okay that you don't. But, Doll, you were made for us, and we were made for you. The moon cut us from the same cloth, three pieces from the same puzzle. You were ours the second you were born, and we were yours. We are each others. We are each other. Mind, body, soul, and wolf, we belong to one another. So don't think for a second that we don't know you, okay? We are you. We'll chase you to the ends of the goddamn Earth if we have to. So don't ever fucking say some shit like that again, got it?! I would break open my chest and shove you inside if that's what it took to keep you safe. I'd walk on my hands and knees for eternity if that's what it takes to make you happy! So don't say some shit like that again, am I understood? You are our mate and we will treat you as such, nothing less than a Goddess among wolves and we the Gods that rule beside you. Do you understand?"
You're too busy sobbing, your small sniffles having grown into full blown fat tears and cries during his monologue, to answer him. He withdraws his claws and your arms fall limp to your side. His palms are warm and comforting on your cheeks even as he says firmly, "nod if you understand."
And all you can do is nod pathetically.
˚➶ 。˚ PART TWO END ˚➶ 。˚
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